Refuge at Sea
by QuoteMyFoot
Summary: A sailor with connections dies in Vermillion City, and Looker is on the case with an unwanted Gym Leader in tow. But can the answer really be as simple as it seems? Looker doubts it. Now he just has to prove it. For the Pokemon Big Bang 2011 on LJ. Offscreen death, discussion thereof, bad language, moderate violence, worldbuilding, and a Greek Looker.
1. Part One

**A/N:** This is something I originally wrote for the LJ Pokemon Big Bang last year. Sadly, I've been too busy with uni work to participate since then, but I thought it would be good to post this one up for some more feedback. I've revised this a little, but not a lot, so any comments or criticism would be really appreciated! (I love reviews!)

On a further note, this builds on my own headcanon for the pokemon world as an AU Earth. If there's something that's not as it is in our world, that's probably why. Please feel free to query!

* * *

**Part One**

Looker was at the airport attempting to book a flight out of the country when his cell phone went off. He answered it with only an apologetic shrug at the desk attendant, who had been nothing but sneering about his accented Japanese. He was well aware his accent was heavy, but he would've liked to have seen _her _attempt Greek.

"Hello?" he said, in English.

"_Looker!_" Oh dear. It was his boss, Fred Kinney, and he was sounding cheerful. That didn't bode well. _"Just the man I wanted. Tell me you're still in Hoenn!"_

"Another case?" Looker asked, dismayed. He'd just finished a headache of a self-kidnapping in Slateport and he was ready for a break. Interpol had the most ludicrous timing.

Kinney must have picked up on the tone, because he actually did sound a little apologetic this time. _"Sorry, Kokinos, but I need someone on this one yesterday."_

His real name? Kinney only used that when he was _really _desperate... damn it. Now Looker didn't have a choice, and the case was bound to be a nightmare. "What has happened?"

_"Sailor by the name of Kent Matthews died of cardiac arrest in Vermillion City early this morning. He holds British _and _American citizenship, and he's a personal friend of two Gym Leaders."_

That certainly sounded like trouble for the local law enforcement, but not necessarily worthy of Interpol. He grimaced and braced himself for more bad news. "Yes?"

Kinney let out a breath. _"And... he's the estranged son of the UK Chancellor of the Exchequer."_

...That would do it, alright. Looker pinched the bridge of his nose and tried not to sigh. Politics. That was just great. Now not only did he have to solve a case, he had to do it without causing a diplomatic incident. Sometimes those two goals just did not match, which meant Looker might be getting a grilling from _Kinney's_superiors and no decent cases for the foreseeable future. Again.

_"Look, I know you probably want a break, but I'm being pressured to get something done and I don't even have an autopsy report yet. Get yourself on the next flight to Vermillion and I'll email you the particulars when I have them. Hell, you'll probably know them before I do if you're there fast enough."_

He really did sigh this time. "Yes, yes, I will get a flight. But I am expecting a break after this."

_"You'll get one, I promise."_

Looker hung up and turned back to the desk attendant. He was suddenly too exhausted to feel irritated by her attitude or the glares of the other people in line. "Cancel my previous request, please. I must instead be on the next flight to Vermillion City."

* * *

The first thing that Looker did when his plane finally landed in Vermillion City (after cursing the meaningless delays that always accompanied airports) was open his laptop to finally get at the files Kinney had promised him. What he actually had actually been given barely qualified as the basics of the case, but it was still enough to make Looker go from resigned to apprehensive.

Kent Matthews was twenty-seven. Twenty-seven year old men did not just up and die from cardiac arrest.

He was probably looking at a murder case here.

For at least a minute, he just stared at the screen. Every minute counted when it was murder, but... it had been more than two years since he'd had to focus on a murder, and he'd just about been getting used to not thinking about them again.

It was stupid, of course. Human nature was a dark thing; he was lucky it had been _that _long since the last one. What was he expecting, when Kinney said _'cardiac arrest' _and _'get yourself there now'_?

It wasn't even anything like Stacia's case.

Looker took a deep breath. Stacia was dead, it was his fault, it was about time he got over it and concentrated on stopping a repeat of it, but right now, even those thoughts were a distraction. Laptop. Documents. _Current _case. _That _was what he should be focussing on.

Reading a little further told him that, although Kent Matthews had died in Vermillion's hospital, he'd actually _collapsed _at some hotel restaurant during dinner with his sister, Veronica. This was the same sister who worked in a pharmaceutical company, had been the only person continually present at the time of the murder, and stood to gain Matthews' inheritance.

...This basically gave her means, motive _and _opportunity in one convenient package, and Looker really didn't like to think that he'd been called in on a _murder case _just for an idiot. Kinney, though, had decided that the only information he needed about the sister was her name, so he would have to wait to make a judgement on her intelligence.

The only other people in Vermillion with a link to the victim were the crew of the _Jamison, _the ship on which Kent Matthews had worked as a navigator. Doing honest work for a living seemed out of character for the son of a politician, but there _had _been a major falling about between Matthews and his parents several years ago, so perhaps he simply had a shred of decency in him.

Looker very much hoped this estrangement was irrelevant to the case, because trying to get something scandalous out of a politician was like trying to squeeze blood from a stone.

In fact, he was just generally hoping this case had nothing to do with politics. It came dangerously close to sympathising with the victim - a mistake Looker would _not _allow - but if Kent Matthews had been a decent man killed for knowing the wrong thing, it would be a lot easier to keep this from erupting into a diplomatic incident.

As far as Looker was concerned, his job was to preserve the peace, and letting a murderer go free meant the exact opposite.

But that sort of thing could spark yet more hostilities across the Pacific if it got out of hand, and might actually get him _fired_; his superiors had a rather different interpretation of the role of an Interpol Agent. Looker would just have to hope it didn't come up. He liked this job.

Looker sighed, closed his laptop, and stood up to leave. The case would only be a little less of a headache even if he _was _lucky enough that politics stayed out of it.

Trepidation was no reason to delay, though. That would help nobody.

* * *

Vermillion City's police station certainly looked impressive, Looker had to admit. Like most of the port city, it was a relatively recent build - the windows curved impossibly just so there wouldn't be a single right angle in the design. The only part of it that looked out of place was the original building, or what was left of it: now just a small reception in conspicuous brick. Looker had always taken for granted the sense of character that old buildings seemed to radiate, at least until he'd started travelling out of Greece. Now it gave him a strange feeling of displacement to have to get along without it. The joys of modernism.

There were at least six floors to Vermillion's police station. Looker had to wonder if they even made proper _use _of all that space, or whether they were just doing it to show off. Either way, it was impressive, but didn't make Looker feel any better about being here. At least he had the 'listen to me if you want to avoid a diplomatic incident' card to play. It wasn't encouraging that this was the only positive he could list, but there was no need to be _quite _that cynical this early in a case. Probably. Why was he handling this? He couldn't have been the _only _available Japanese-speaking agent, surely.

Well, Kinney had given it to him anyway, so there was no point in complaining.

Looker pushed open the doors to reception. He flashed his ID when the woman behind the desk asked for it, the one with his real name on it. He didn't feel comfortable using it, but he couldn't think of an excuse not to this time and Kinney was always complaining about having to tell people that yes, he _did _have an agent who called himself Looker.

He was waved through to a meeting room of sorts, though his badge was scrutinised quite thoroughly beforehand, so at least they were taking this somewhat seriously. As he entered, a man - detective - in a suit and tie rose out of his chair to meet him, followed a little more reluctantly by another with startlingly blond hair and a vaguely military uniform.

Wait, _this _was Lt. Surge's city? He could have sworn it was Viridian... damn it, if he'd realised he'd have to deal with one of Gym Leader "friends" of all things, he would have read that part of the file closer. Maybe if he'd read it closer to begin with he'd know where Surge's Gym _was_. Ugh, what a headache _already. _

"You're the Interpol agent?" Surge asked, giving him a critical once-over. As ex-military, he probably didn't find Looker too impressive. That was fine by him; you never knew who you would need to surprise.

"Yes," was all he said. He showed off his badge again, because Americans always seemed to find it reassuring. "Agent Kokinos. However, I do prefer to go as Looker. It is a codename."

Lt. Surge was a good five inches taller than Looker and used it to good advantage to frown at him. "_Looker? _Are you serious?"

He let the insult go with only a shrug. "It is what they called me. I did not choose."

Surge's frown deepened, as Looker had suspected it might. A non-reaction could often provoke more anger than any argument could. Vermillion's Gym Leader was no exception - no surprises there. More important than his faults, though, was why Lt. Surge was doing all of the talking when the detective for the case was standing _right there. _

"I'm Detective Yamato," the man in question offered, when Looker raised his eyebrows at him questioningly. "I hope you will be satisfied with the cooperation of our police department; I assure you-"

"Forgiving me the interruption, I have no time to waste for chit-chat here. I only need an autopsy report and the particulars of the case, as fast as is possible."

"Of course," Yamato said, barely blinking at Looker's abruptness while Surge bristled. "We've set up a temporary office for you upstairs. I'll have copies of all the relevant files sent over. The Chief of Police has decided to place my team under your leadership for the duration of the investigation. We're right next door. I'm sure you want to begin, so if you could-"

This detective must have worked with Interpol agents under pressure before. No one else could go from inane babble to the immediate necessities that quickly. Now that Looker was going to snap at him again, he felt a little guilty. He held up a hand to stop Yamato. "Ah, please, one thing before all that: _what _is your _Gym Leader _doing here?"

Surge snarled immediately. "Kent was my _friend_."

"I am aware of this." A flash of discomfort crossed Surge's face. Good. "That does not explain why you are interfering with a thing that is nothing to do with you."

"Nothing to do with-?! _This is my city!_"

Gym Leaders were all the same. They thought a title and handing out badges made them the life point of 'their' cities. They looked down on the places that didn't have a Gym. They were all useless and complacent, wrapped up in pokemon battles and power politics. The cities were no more theirs than they were _his. _

"It's not yours," Looker said coldly. "What do you do for it? You do nothing, except interfere in things you can not understand."

Surge did not answer this with anything other than gritted teeth and a furious, narrow-eyed stare. Looker had to admit that he was impressed by this uncharacteristic display of self-control, but he doubted it would last. He'd almost forgotten about the detective, but now he caught a glimpse of him in his peripheral vision. Probably best to get rid of him now, before 'his' Gym Leader could embarrass him further.

"Yamato," he said, very carefully, without taking his eyes off Surge. "Maybe it would be for the better if you get everything together upstairs as this is being sorted."

"I think I could do that," Yamato agreed with some forced cheer and more than a little trepidation. He left quickly and closed the door softly.

As soon as he heard the 'click', Surge pounced. "I'm not dropping this."

Looker folded his arms and spat out, _"Why,"_ so roughly that it wasn't really a question. The one time a Gym Leader involved themselves with their city and it was when it was better off without them. He couldn't put into words how frustrating it was, to be met with indifference time and time again, and then... _this_.

"I know how politics works. I know who his mother was. If it's better for 'the peace', or whatever-the-fuck you guys use to justify these things, the police here would let his killer go free." Surge met his glare without flinching, arms held behind his back, spine rigid. "I know these people and I _know _they still do shit like that. What the hell makes you think I should trust you not to do the same?"

Of course. The one time Surge noticed his city, and it was so his _friend _wouldn't go without justice. Of course he was trying to do his _job _for the most selfish reasons imaginable. _Of course. _

"I have jurisdiction," Surge continued. "You can look it up. It's in the law books."

Looker's arms loosened for a moment as he eyed Surge carefully. He wasn't bluffing. If Surge had done his research that well, he was probably determined enough that he'd ignore whatever legal loopholes Looker tried to throw at him. He _could _get him off the case that way, but... it would take time. Time that he didn't really have. Quite apart from the pressure on Interpol, Vermillion was a _port city. _The longer Looker spent solving the case, the more chance there was of any perpetrators getting away.

"_Fine,_" he snapped.

Surge relaxed his posture and let out an unchecked sigh of relief, but Looker wasn't finished. He closed the distance between them with a few strides. Surge drew his chin back slightly in surprise but held his ground.

"You are remaining because it is too much trouble to be rid of you," he growled. "But _I _am in charge - do you understand? If you are preventing the case from being solved, I_ will _arrest you_._"

"On what charges?" Surge asked, relaxing again. He only sounded curious now.

Looker pulled back, frowning at the sudden change in tone. "...I do not know," he admitted. "Wasting police time? Littering, if necessary."

Surge seemed to consider this for a few moments. "I can deal with that," he said eventually, to Looker's relief. "You're the expert, after all. I'm only here to make sure you do your job."

Looker rolled his eyes. "I do not need the watching, I assure you."

He shrugged. "Yeah, well, if that turns out to be true I'll know better for the future, won't I?"

Even though his words were dismissive, there was something in his tone and speculative look that said Looker might have gone up in his estimations. Well, as long as Surge let him do his job properly, he could think what he liked. Looker wasn't going to worry about a _Gym Leader's _opinion of him.

* * *

His opinion of Detective Yamato was certainly higher than that of 'his' Gym Leader. As Looker headed for the lift, Surge in tow, he saw a young woman waiting to meet them. She must have been a recent promotion, because she couldn't quite hide how self-conscious she felt in the more casual dress suits of detectives.

"I'm junior Detective Mihara, under Detective Yamato," she said, at least sounding convincingly confident. "If you could follow me sirs, we're just on the floor above this one..."

It turned out that Yamato did indeed have everything ready for Looker at his temporary desk. Everything they had on the case turned out to be a fairly pitiful amount, but Looker supposed that it was inevitable, what with the panic of finding that your victim was related to a powerful politician and then having to call Interpol in. Looker could say from experience that local jurisdiction was _always _reluctant to call Interpol in.

He was willing to forgive them, anyway, because he finally had that damned autopsy report. It was time-stamped several hours ago, so he sent a brief text message off to Kinney, because it was his job to yell at people about these things and Looker didn't have the time.

Not that having it a few hours earlier would have helped Looker much. It was pretty clear cut: Kent Matthews had died of cardiac arrest following a large dose of potassium cyanide - much more than the amount actually required to kill him.

There was a brief report from the first officer on the scene, which Looker _had _seen before, but he read again anyway. It was basically the same thing as last time - Matthews had entered the hotel restaurant about 8.30pm the previous evening, and been taken straight to the private room hired by his sister. They ordered, everything was fine, until Matthews passed out some time into dessert. The hotel staff had called the hospital after his sister's failed attempts at waking him, but he still died within the hour.

Well, that was no wonder. Cyanide was a potent poison at the best of times; that much would have killed him _very_quickly. At least it wasn't a particularly painful way to go.

The hotel staff had been interviewed, although the sister had yet to be - but she was still staying at that same hotel, so she would be easy to find at least - and the _Jamison _had been held in port (although it wasn't due to leave for five days yet anyway) and some basic statements had been taken. Yamato had ruled out suicide from the comments of the crew, and from Lt. Surge's statement. Cyanide _was _quite popular for suicides, but normally they didn't make such a big production about it.

The only odd thing was that they'd analysed the scene, as well as the hotel kitchen, and still couldn't tell how the poison had entered his system.

Looker spread the documents in front of him on the desk and frowned at them.

"Problem?"

He started violently, almost knocking himself out of his chair. Surge was still standing by the door connecting this office to Yamato's, grinning at his reaction. Looker bit back his instinctive snarl and tried to force his heartbeat back to normal. "What are you still doing here?"

Surge just shrugged. "I can't make sure you're doing your job properly from the _next room, _now, can I?"

Looker closed his eyes for a moment and tried not to grind his teeth. He couldn't, unfortunately, make him leave. Well, probably not. But it would most definitely be unwise to try.

Surge had a point, Looker reminded himself. If he accepted a Gym Leader staying on the investigation to make sure he 'did his job properly', he couldn't really complain when Surge decided to actually _do _that. No matter how much he wanted to.

Finally, he just sighed, and decided to answer the original question: "It does not make sense."

"What doesn't make sense?" Surge didn't mention the sudden change of topic.

Should he tell him? There was really no reason not to, apart from the fact Looker didn't want to talk to him, and if he didn't tell him then Surge would probably just demand to know anyway. That would get very irritating _very_fast.

"Matthews died of cyanide poisoning," Looker said, eventually. He leaned back in his chair and tried to pretend that Surge was one of those idiot detectives he had to explain every detail to. It helped a little. "It is a fast-acting poison, so he must have ingested it at the hotel where he died. But also they could not find cyanide traces at the scene, so we do not know how it came to be in his system."

Surge frowned. "Do you need to know? If it's that fast acting, doesn't that narrow the suspect list down anyway?"

"Indeed, it does so," Looker replied dryly. "It is narrowed to the thirty hotel staff who might have come into contact with Matthews' food, and also his sister."

"She'd be the only one with motive," Surge muttered. "Kent never did like her much."

Looker wasn't sure if he was supposed to have heard this last bit, but he rolled his eyes anyway. "I cannot arrest someone just because the victim did not like them."

"I didn't _say _that, did I?" Surge snapped, eyes narrowed. "Come on, who else could've done it?"

Looker resisted the frustrated urge to hit something. It was a bad habit to get in to. Of course Surge wouldn't think around things like this, he was a _Gym Leader _for God's sake. The knowledge didn't make him feel better. "That is the _problem!_"

This drew Surge up short - though, judging by his furrowed brow, it was more due to confusion than realisation. Thank God he wasn't a detective. "What?"

Looker smirked. "Do you not understand? It is not so hard." Surge gritted his teeth and scowled, just as Looker had suspected he might. Rubbing it in was unprofessional, but hell, all the Gym Leaders needed to be taken down a peg or two - Surge was no exception. "No one is stupid enough to commit murder when they are going to be the only suspect, yes? Even you must understand that."

Now that it had been spelled out to him, he seemed to think about it. "Maybe it wasn't premeditated?"

"Ah, because it is common to always carry around potassium cyanide!" Looker scoffed. "That is even more stupid. And, still, there is the matter of how Matthews ingested it. Until that can be discovered, it is impossible to arrest anyone. Such a case would not stand up for an arrest warrant, not even considering a trial."

When Surge didn't answer immediately, Looker decided that he must have run out of things to say, and turned back to review the documents Yamato had given him. He'd barely read a sentence when:

"Are you going to call him _Matthews _all the time?"

"Hm?" Looker glanced up at him again.

"He was a person, you know," Surge said. His voice was calm and his face expressionless, but the words were clipped and every muscle was tensed. Looker was, once again, impressed by this unusual display of self-control at the same time as his fingers twitched for the pokeballs in his pocket. "Kent wasn't perfect, nobody is, but he was more than a surname and an autopsy report."

It seemed he had hit a nerve without even meaning to.

"I am a professional," Looker said, after a moment of consideration. He didn't want to pander to Surge's tender feelings, but if he pushed him on this, Looker thought that Surge might actually punch him. "To me, that is all he can be."

"So what, this is just a puzzle for you? Just... nine-to-five?" Surge demanded, watching him carefully for a reaction.

This time, there was something of a snarl to his tone which Looker didn't like at all. He kept his expression blank. Let the Gym Leader draw what conclusions he liked. It didn't matter.

"You don't actually care about _justice_ at all, do you?" Surge was shaking with anger now. Looker hadn't seen anyone that angry with him in a long time. It occurred to him that, if he wanted, Surge could do some serious damage. And he was blocking one of the two escape routes. "Is it just for the _thrill of the chase? _Is that it? Do you actually _care _that a _human being _has died here?"

Looker watched him carefully, rigid in his chair but trying not to show it, reminding himself of the _other _escape route and mentally cataloguing what he might be able to use as a weapon. Some of his nervousness must have shown in his face, though, because after a few seconds of glaring at him Surge closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. It seemed to calm him. When he opened them again, his posture had relaxed.

Slightly.

"...I am a professional," Looker repeated, once satisfied that he wasn't about to be hit. He wouldn't let himself relax yet, though. "The victim does not matter, only what was done to them, and by what person. That is my job. If you do not like it, you may leave at any time."

He had a feeling that he may have lost whatever respect he had somehow gained from their argument downstairs. Lt. Surge was proving to be even _more _bewildering than the other Leaders he'd met, something he'd thought impossible. Trust an American to prove him wrong.

"_Leave? _Really?" Surge sneered. "You expect me to do that _now?_"

"No, I suppose not." Looker shook his head, returning to the papers. "That would be wholly too much to ask for."

He did his best to ignore the tense silence that followed, although he wasn't very successful, as he now realised that Surge was basically standing in his blind spot. On purpose or not? Of course, Looker didn't believe that even a Gym Leader would be arrogant enough to attack him - but the thought still made him nervous, especially considering Surge's military past. He was probably one of the few people in the region who could confidently take on a fully-trained Interpol agent bare handed, and with how close he'd _just _come to flying off the handle...

Looker realised he had been reading the same sentence over and over for the past several seconds, and frowned. Then he sighed, gathered the papers together, and shoved them into a convenient folder on the desk. He never did very well reading from these reports. Besides, it seemed like there might be more answers to be found if he did the investigation himself. He glared at the folder anyway for a satisfying amount of time and then, upon consideration, decided it would probably be wise to take it with him. He folded it up and slipped it into one of his huge pockets, mentally cursing that it was actually small enough to _fit. _

Surge raised his eyebrows as he headed for the door to Yamato's office. "Oh, so you're doing some work now?"

Looker bit back his retort and settled for offering the Leader an unimpressed look as he opened the door. Yamato looked up from another file - so he was still working on other cases? Just as well that Looker had been planning to do the legwork himself on this one. "Agent Looker?"

"Ah, yes - I was intending to visit the crime scene and speak to Ms. Matthews, and assumed that you would like to know."

Yamato nodded and glanced around his room. Looker guessed that he'd "borrowed" Yamato's own office from him, because it was quite cramped with five detectives in there. Mihara was the only female. She was busy typing something on her computer that Looker couldn't see, and looked up at the sound of her name.

"Mihara, you go with Agent Looker and - I assume that Lt. Surge is accompanying you too?"

"I assume so," Looker said flatly.

"He is," Surge's voice clarified from behind him. He resisted the urge to turn around, but he couldn't stop his shoulders from tensing. He hoped Surge hadn't noticed.

Yamato nodded absently at this, either oblivious to the tension or ignoring it. Looker wasn't sure which he preferred, but neither said great things about Vermillion's detectives. "Well, if the Lieutenant is going, I don't expect you'll need Ken, Mihara, but... take him along to be on the safe side."

"Yes, sir," she answered.

Looker had no idea who 'Ken' was supposed to be until Mihara opened one of her drawers and took out a pokeball. Ah. A police pokemon... was it growlithe they used in Kanto? Not houndoor; that was Sinnoh... must be a growlithe, then. It would probably have been a good idea to mix up the types somewhat in a _port city _- but he'd never been given a pokemon when working for the law, so maybe he should just be grateful that Mihara had some form of defence _at all_.

It was probably better than what protection he had now.

* * *

"What do you normally do?" Surge asked Mihara as they were leaving the building. "Just out of curiosity. Five detectives on the same team seems a little... overboard."

"It's really not!" Mihara retorted, with a surprisingly stern glower. "You shouldn't underestimate the workload involved!" Pedestrians gave her odd looks at her volume at the same time as she realised who she'd just told off, resulting in a truly astonishing blush. Looker might have been disappointed by the embarrassment, but it was really rather endearing. Quieter, she added: "I normally take notes and do research on the computers, when necessary. And... fetch coffee."

Surge raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? Coffee? And they get away with that?"

Looker intervened before Surge could share more opinions on office initiation rituals. "I would not worry about it. I was doing precisely the same things when I was a rookie. Now, I should ask-"

"When you were a rookie?" Mihara blurted. Then she seemed to grow aware of the fact that she'd interrupted him, and coloured again. "Uh, I'm sorry, I- I didn't mean... I just didn't know that Interpol had the same sort of..."

"Ah, no, you are mistaking," Looker reassured her, holding his hands up in a placating manner. He regretted the elaboration - he should've just stuck to interrupting Surge. "Interpol is a little different, but I was referring to, ah, my time as an Officer when I was younger."

"You worked local before you worked international?" Surge asked. There was a little bit of incredulity in his tone, but there was a smirk twitching at the corners of his lips because this was _apparently _amusing.

"Yes, yes." Looker scowled. The last thing he needed was to be distracted on a murder case. He pushed all the memories of Ioanna and Stacia to the back of his mind. "Anyway, to be discussing more important things - this 'Lanturn Hotel', is it close enough to be walked, or...?"

"Oh. Um..." Mihara thought for a moment. "I don't think it's too far from here. Lt. Surge? Close enough to walk?"

"I'd say so."

She nodded. "Hm. Well, Ken will appreciate the exercise."

It turned out that Ken was, in fact, a growlithe. He started wagging his tail almost before he'd fully materialised, barking at Mihara's heels, although she calmed him with a few platitudes.

The three of them (plus Ken) probably seemed an odd group, but nobody paid them much attention. Vermillion City was used to a host of colourful characters from all corners of the globe - there was a reason, after all, that they were the first city in Japan to ever accept a Gym Leader who wasn't a native. This atmosphere was even more pronounced as they approached the docklands, where most of the city's entertainment could be found.

At night some parts of it might be considered a little... unsavoury. It was the middle of the day, however, and people less protected than Looker still felt safe roaming the streets. Souvenir stalls and food stands had been set up all along Harbour Avenue, the long, wide street that stretched from one side of Vermillion's docks to the other. It was only a stone's throw away from the sea, and the air had a sharp salty tang to it as a result. Wingull could be seen circling above, and if you _did _buy anything, you'd have to be careful to hold on to it.

Despite the crowds, Looker liked the place. It was open and friendly now, as all tourist spots were, but it was quite obviously part of city life as well. Occasionally pedestrians would have to make way for pokemon or small lorries bearing heavy loads, and even above the noise of the crowds, the yells of the fishermen and sailors who made their living here echoed loud and clear.

Maybe that sense of vibrancy was what gave it the charm that, somehow, cheered Looker up considerably. If he hadn't been in the middle of working, he would have liked to have spent more time here. As it was, passing through, he was reminded of the primary reason why he enjoyed travelling: even if it wasn't 'home', there were places like this all over the globe that, regardless of who or what you were, would welcome you with open arms.

Looker had to admit that Lt. Surge was right to be proud of being a part of this city, even if he had no right to stake a claim to it.


	2. Part Two

**Part Two**

'The Lanturn Hotel' was a stone building at least a century old, probably one of the few survivors of the war. Other than that, though, it was every inch the modern and exclusive venue. Looker felt uncomfortable as soon as he stepped through the doors. His salary was hardly meagre and his clothes were always well-made, but even so he conscious of his well-worn trenchcoat. This was certainly not the kind of place he elected to stay in normally.

Mihara looked even more uncomfortable - she'd returned Ken before they'd even stepped inside the place, probably a wise idea, but still she was receiving more than a few distasteful looks (apparently, _he_ had passed muster). She shrank under all the attention, looking painfully young, and Looker resisted the urge to poke and prod her into at least _standing _more confidently. He'd gone through the same thing and straightened himself out; he'd promised himself he'd let other rookies find _their _footing, too. It wouldn't last if they didn't do it on their own.

Surge, despite being the most inappropriately dressed, managed to look the most at ease. Looker found his good mood rapidly dissipating.

"Good afternoon," he said, to the receptionist. He pulled his ID from his pocket again and showed it to her. "I am here regarding the Matthews case."

"Of course, sir," she said, after a careful study of his ID, indicating a door to their left. "The restaurant is right over there. If you ask one of the staff in there, they will gladly show you to the private dining room that was being used at... at the time of the death."

Well, whatever he thought about these grand hotels, he couldn't fault the woman's professionalism. Her tone barely faltered. "Thank you."

"Do you also wish to speak to Ms. Matthews?"

He hesitated. Witness - potential suspect - first? Or the crime scene? Seeing the scene for himself would clear up things when he questioned her, but depending on what Veronica Matthews said in her interview, he might want to go and look at the scene again _anyway. _

In the end, he reached a compromise. "If you could be so kind, could you ask Ms. Matthews if she is willing to join us in that room? Ah, but please to be clear that if it is upsetting for her, it is not necessary."

She picked up a phone. "I will certainly do so, sir."

She then switched to almost perfect English to pass the message on. Looker sourly noted that it was better than _his _English, and resisted the urge to frown.

"Sure that's a wise idea?" Surge asked pointedly, although he did keep it too quiet for the receptionist to overhear.

Looker shrugged, mentally shoving the brief flare of resentment to the back of his mind. She'd never be able to speak Greek, and that was the important thing. "It is convenient."

The amount of polished white in the lobby was beginning to grate on Looker's nerves. He'd never been much for the colour, and he liked it even less when it was so _bright. _The feeling wasn't helped by the grand scale of everything - the designs, the quality of the marble, the _amount _of marble - and he was already itching to have a poke around the crime scene. Even if it was part of the same hotel, it was something with which Looker was more familiar.

Ms. Matthews eventually agreed to talk at the crime scene. Looker asked for her to be sent through, and wasted no more time in the gleaming lobby.

The dining area was far different from the lobby, different enough that even Lt. Surge did a double-take. Looker contained his surprise to a blink, and tried not to feel smug about it. That would be petty. Instead of white, it was full of dark colours, from the deep red carpet to the mahogany tables and chairs to the brown-purple walls. It might have felt oppressive anywhere else, but here it was lit well enough to be mere lavish decoration instead. It was less grating than the lobby, at any rate.

It turned out that the crime scene was decorated in the same way, but the scheme looked a little ridiculous on a scale that much smaller. The door was locked, but not marked as a crime scene, though this was understandable given that the main dining area was still in use by other guests.

"We haven't had a chance to fix the room up yet," the waiter told him. "Although it wasn't that disturbed in the first place, to be truthful. It should be as the police left it."

"Thank you," Looker said mechanically, already comparing the police report to what forensics had left behind. He heard the door shut a few moments later.

Most things had been removed, but the furniture was still here and it was easy to mentally reconstruct the events of the night. No matter which way Looker examined it, though, a method of administration for the poison failed to appear. He frowned at the table where Matthews and his sister had been sitting.

"Um, Agent Looker," Mihara said, startling him out of him reverie. "Why are we at the crime scene? I-I mean, the evidence has already been taken away..."

"It is not that I think I will find anything else," he assured her, with a small smile, although he was planning on looking later _anyway_, just to be sure. "It is simply easier to myself to picture what happened this way."

"Oh," she said. "Well, um... shall I take notes of the interview?"

"I think that will depend on how good Ms. Matthews' Japanese is," Looker said. He was betting it wasn't great, not if the receptionist had to phone up in English. Mihara, who had already taken a notepad from her pocket, looked dismayed. "Although you should not worry if that is the case, as we have a second option."

There was a pause, and then Lt. Surge caught on. "Hey, wait..."

"You have an objection to being, for once, useful?" Looker asked innocently.

"Will you _drop _that laissez-faire bullshit already?" Surge snarled, in English. "I'm not someone you can just order around, you know."

Why the sudden switch? Looker blinked, too confused to be truly intimidated. Did he think English sounded more frightening? More eloquent, perhaps? _What?_

"That is true, however - you are the best English-speaker in the room, yes?"

Surge glowered at him. Looker returned it without flinching.

Eventually, Surge sighed in irritation and grudgingly held out his hand for the notepad. "Since your English is just as bad as your Japanese, I guess I don't have much choice."

Well, he couldn't manage it without trying to get an insult in there, but he _had _agreed - perhaps he could be taught after all.

Mihara handed it over without hesitation, but she looked upset. "What am _I _here for then?"

_To keep an eye on me for your boss, _Looker thought, but he didn't say it. She must be in her twenties, probably mid-twenties, but she struck Looker as much younger, partially because of naivety like this, and partially because she had little enough faith in herself that she needed something to _do _in order to feel like she belonged here.

"In case I need to know a detail in the case," Looker said. "You have had longer than myself to become acquainted with them."

"...I guess that's true," Mihara admitted, now with a frown. Apparently she was smart enough to know when she was being pandered to.

Luckily, Looker didn't have to continue that conversation, because there was a knock at the door and a tall woman with black hair and a tight blue dress that had Surge raising his eyebrows (and Looker resisting the urge to roll his eyes at him) entered. "I was told to come here - Veronica Matthews?"

She spoke in English, which meant that Looker had been right. The language barrier was certainly a better explanation than 'they didn't have the time' for why she'd yet to be interviewed, but he did wish that Detective Yamato had thought to tell him about this. Looker had overestimated him. He _hated _doing that.

"Yes," he said. "I am Agent... Kokinos, from Interpol."

"So... you'll be here about Kent's murder," she said, closing the door behind her and taking a few steps into the room. She wasn't too eager to hang around the escape route, then - but Looker wasn't sure what to make of that. No need to run? Or she just wanted it to seem that way? It was possible.

Surge narrowed his eyes at her. "You seem sure he was murdered."

"I recognise a poisoning when I see one. What killed him?" she asked firmly, turning to Looker. She twisted the ring on her middle finger. That spoke of nervousness, but she seemed otherwise calm.

It was a little confusing and Looker still wasn't sure what to think of her, but he decided to answer her question anyway. There was no one here to critique his methods. "Potassium cyanide."

Ms. Matthews visibily flinched. "Oh. I suppose that... makes me your prime suspect." She stood a little taller and swallowed, looking him straight in the face, and he couldn't help but admire that a little. "Well, to make things easy for you, my inheritance has gone from six million to... oh, I don't know, several more millions. Kent was going to get the bulk of the share, which always irritated me, it's just so old_-fashioned_-"

He'd known this before, and it didn't make him any more inclined to suspect her now. The sort of people who killed for money were not the sort who worked in a high-skilled job with a large salary. He _did _think of her as a suspect_, _but he wasn't sure how 'likely' yet, and he wasn't going to tell her that in any case. It was always better to take people by surprise - it left less room for panic. "Be that as it is, I do not consider you a suspect."

"Really?" She blinked at him several times, and went back to twisting the ring on her finger. She didn't speak up again for a good few seconds, frowning the whole time. "So, then... how can _I _help you?"

Looker regarded her with some amusement, although he did his best to hide it. He recognised the type now - so used to getting things right that they weren't quite sure how to handle surprises. It was satisfying to pin down her character, but that didn't speak of someone who would act rashly, which was what she would have to be for this murder to make sense. "Ms. Matthews-"

"Call me Veronica, please. I _hate _Ms. Matthews."

_Please call me-_

He forced himself to unclench his teeth and speak lightly, hoping no one would notice the pause. "Ah, I am very sorry, but you understand, I must speak professionally - you would prefer Miss? Mrs?"

She winced, but muttered: "...Miss will do."

"Then, Miss Matthews, I need you to talk through what transpired in the evening yesterday," he said, in the same mild, polite tone, shooting Surge a significant look.

Looker didn't normally need to take many notes himself - his memory was quite good, and in any case it was hard to listen _and _write at the same time. But since Surge had insisted on being here, he could at least make himself useful. It would probably do him good to have to do something other than battle - something _ordinary _people did.

Miss Matthews talked through the events of the evening in a voice that was mostly calm. She hadn't had a _great _relationship with her brother, and she didn't fit the profile he was slowly building up, but even so being so calm seemed a little... off to him.

The calm started to waver when it came to describing the actual time of death. She started to twist her ring again, preferring to stare at her hands rather than them. So it was a nervous tic, but one she was aware of? She probably would have made an effort to conceal it if she'd had something to hide. "He started complaining of a... a headache partway through desert. Though that's not - that _wasn't _unusual for him; you always had to have painkillers on you when Kent was around."

Looker saw Surge half smile to himself out of the corner of his eye. So this was something he did with everyone, not just his sister.

"He'd had some already, but he used to double up the doses, they got too weak eventually..." Miss Matthews cleared her throat, apparently realising that she was rambling. Something started to click in Looker's head and he tried to keep the frown off his face, not wanting to throw her off when she might be about to say something important. "I had a new box of paracetamol with me, and he had some of those - he only seemed to get worse, though; I thought he had a migraine coming on - he used to get those when we were children... but then he collapsed and-"

"Your paracetamol," Looker interrupted, voice clipped in a way that made her jump. He barely noticed. His mind was racing - they hadn't found how the poison got into his system, but if this was the first time she'd been questioned... and if no one had taken those things off her... it could have been through the paracetamol. "What variety do they take?"

"What?" she asked, surprise giving way to confusion.

"What variety are they?" he repeated, and let out a noise of frustration when the look on her face didn't clear. Language barriers! Of all the times for them to appear! "They are tablets, capsules...?"

"Oh! Capsules." Miss Matthews wasn't an unintelligent woman; she furrowed her brow thoughtfully, piecing together what Looker suspected. "You think that was how...?"

"You still have them?" he asked, sharply.

"Yes, I-"

There was no time to listen to extraneous information. He cut her off. "You have not taken more yourself?"

"No!"

"Good. Where are they?"

She seemed a little dazed, and put a hand to her head. "Uh, they're still in my room... I..."

"Go get them," he said urgently. Miss Matthews nodded slowly, blinking. Looker took a slow, deep breath and tried to calm himself. This was potentially a breakthrough, but that was no reason to be inconsiderate of other people and, in any case, sending a civilian to collect evidence was the sort of shortcut that got cases thrown out. "No, on second thinking, I believe it would be best if Detective Mihara went with you. Simply show her where they are, and she will collect the packaging. Is this okay?"

Miss Matthews nodded again. "I... yes, that's fine."

She seemed a stunned, almost to the point of distraction, more than worried. If the cyanide _had _come from those paracetamol capsules, and she'd put it there, could she fake a reaction like that? Perhaps, but it would have been simpler to not mention them in the first place.

Looker turned to Detective Mihara and summarised the situation for her. Her eyes widened immediately. "No _wonder _they couldn't find out how the poison entered his system!"

"This is not for certain how it was done," Looker reminded her, and she nodded dutifully, though he admitted that, like her, he found it likely. "But you must take the packaging for testing straight away, is that understood?"

"Yes, Agent Looker!" she said firmly. Then she frowned. "But, sir, what will you and Lt. Surge do?"

"I will spend a bit more time here, I suspect," Looker answered. "Maybe I will think over the case. However, there is very little that it is possible for me to do until the testing is done, so I must wait for the response."

This said nothing about what 'Lt. Surge' would be doing, but Mihara didn't seem to notice. She nodded vaguely - probably distracted by their discovery - and started for the door.

Miss Matthews made to follow her, but Looker caught her arm gently as she passed him, and said, "Ah, it is probable we will need to ask you more questions at a later point, but for now I believe it would be best if you were to rest. Of course I have to ask that you inform the police if you consider leaving the city."

"Of course," she answered, relaxing a little, and flashing him a weak, but sincere, smile. "I understand. Thank you, Agent Kokinos."

Looker wasn't sure how to answer this, so he merely took his hand away and nodded curtly. Miss Matthews ghosted out of the room, followed closely by Detective Mihara, who was still watching her like a hawk as she closed the door behind her.

"So," Lt. Surge said, after a pause. "Not a suspect, huh?"

Looker hadn't been paying him much attention, too caught up in his discovery. Now he realised he was within striking distance and took several hasty steps back. If Surge had looked angry before, this was pure fury, and the fact that he had enough control over himself not to lash out immediately was more frightening than his unrelenting stare.

It made Looker _really wish _he knew what had pissed him off. "What?"

"I thought you guys were supposed to be _impartial,_" Surge drawled, sneering. He was between Looker and the door again, but this time it seemed like he'd moved there purposefully. Looker couldn't remember any other exits and didn't dare take his eyes off Surge for long enough to look. "Is all that it takes to get off the hook a pretty face?"

_"Kokinos, stop daydreaming! She can't be the first pretty face you've seen."_

Looker forgot all about escape routes. He thought he was capable of lifting one of those chairs; he could probably use one of those as a weapon. He moved closer to the table and felt his hands curl into fists of their own accord. He wanted to keep his voice level so he wouldn't tip off Surge, but he thought a voice utterly without inflection was probably just as much of a give away. "...What did you say?"

Surge gave him a cold and mocking smile. If he had guessed what Looker was thinking, he didn't care. "Don't think I'm questioning your _taste_..."

"You _think_-" Looker's throat felt constricted by anger and he had to swallow past it before he could attempt to get his words out without his voice shaking.

"What _should_ I be thinking, then?" Surge demanded, before Looker had the chance to speak. "When you tell _the murderer_ that they're _not _a suspect, that makes me pretty fucking suspicious."

"Then maybe it would not be good for you to make stupid assumptions," Looker growled.

"She's probably the murderer is a_ stupid assumption?_"

Looker made a noise of frustration, and forced himself to reel his anger in before he started a fight that he would probably lose. Intellectually, he knew that Surge had no idea what he was really accusing him of, but that helped very little. He was still tense, still trying to find a decent opening in Surge's movements. His hands were starting to cramp from how tightly he had clenched his fists. Looker tried to level his voice again. It didn't work.

"You do not understand," he told Surge, picking out his words delicately, slowly. It was the only way he could keep his voice steady, and Looker would _not _let a _Gym Leader _believe that he was afraid. "Judging, that is not your job-"

"It's not your job either."

Looker lost control of his temper completely. He still recognised attacking Surge as a bad idea. The table was the nearest object. He threw that instead and it flipped over. There was a loud _bang _as it crashed into the wall.

"_You do not understand!_" Looker snarled, in the shocked silence that followed. Surge didn't understand because all that _he_ knew of detective work was from television, from crime shows where sympathising with the murderer hurt no one, so of course, because he had done it, he thought nothing of accusing Looker of the same thing. He was forgetting that, although sometimes convincing, none of that was _real_. "A detective can not- _should_ not feel sympathy for a murder suspect, because then it becomes 'oh, she is not so bad, he was deserving of being killed, so what if I am a little slow, a few more days does not hurt anyone' - you forget that they have _killed _to be rid themselves of a problem, and killing for the first time, it is hard, but afterwards..."

Surge looked almost stricken. At the very least, he seemed like he might finally understand. Looker's anger started to ebb, and he was left with a desire to start breaking things but no energy to fuel it. Of course Surge knew what killing was like. Looker didn't think much of him as a Gym Leader, but he _had _been a soldier once.

"...Yeah," Surge said carefully. "Afterwards, it's easier."

A tense silence fell. Looker didn't want to end it; he'd given too much about himself away already, and he was still too angry to trust himself to think before he spoke. It wasn't exactly that he minded talking about his past mistakes, but it hurt to do it, and it wasn't worth it unless he was talking to someone that he trusted with that knowledge.

In the end, he didn't have to break the silence, because Surge did. "I think I understand a little about the consequences of doing the wrong thing."

He let himself relax a little and slowly - _slowly_ - unclenched his fists. Surge wasn't going to push it. Good. "...Perhaps you do," Looker allowed. He felt suddenly drained, and it came out more tired than he had meant. He didn't want to let on just _how _tired, but it took all of his willpower not to sag in relief.

There was another pause, more awkward than tense.

"What do we do now, then?" Surge asked.

Looker debated whether he ought to comment on the 'we', but decided to play it diplomatically; another argument and he might not go for the table. Then he would be in serious trouble. "I do not know. Really, there is very little to be done until the test results come back. Since no other source of cyanide was discovered, it was probably through these painkillers..."

It still didn't really add up, though. Even if it was through the paracetamol capsules, the problem remained: why would Miss Matthews feed her brother poison at a time when she'd be the only real suspect? If she'd had enough forethought to add potassium cyanide to the capsules, she surely would have thought to give them to him at another time.

"Still leaves Veronica as the main suspect," Surge pointed out unhelpfully.

Looker sighed. He half-wished that he had sent _Surge _to the lab - at least Mihara had a detective's mind and would be less likely to state the obvious. But Looker wouldn't have trusted him with evidence like that, no matter how many arguments it would've avoided. He turned to right the table instead, even though turning his back on Surge made his spine itch. "Yes, I am aware. But, it is also possible that there was a contamination at the factory. If there was, cyanide will also most probably be in the others."

"Huh. You know, I think I heard about something like that happening before, back in America." Looker turned abruptly, but Surge was looking at the floor, looking distant. "When was it... '81? '82? Some nutter added poison at the factory where they make these things. Whole bunch of people died." He frowned. "It seems a bit farfetched, though."

If it was true, the industry certainly wouldn't have taken an incident like that lying down. There would probably be safeguards in place. Looker mentally added to the same category as 'factory contamination'. _Possible _rarely meant _likely. _"Yes."

Surge shrugged. "So, what will you do if it comes back negative for cyanide?"

Looker thought about it for a few moments. What _would_ it mean, apart from causing a huge headache for him? "There is two possibilities if that is the case. Veronica Matthews killed her brother and only doctored _two _of the capsules, or... the cyanide came again from some other place."

"And you _still _don't think she did it?" Surge asked pointedly, raising an eyebrow.

Looker bristled and couldn't stop himself from adding some bite to his own tone. "Did Miss Matthews seem to you to be stupid?"

This made Surge blink, and then frown. "Well, no, but..." He made a frustrated noise. "Where the hell else would it have come from?"

Logic left one other place, but Looker hadn't heard anything too suspicious about it, and it felt a little like jumping to conclusions to speak it aloud this early. He hesitated. "...There is only truly one option. It must have been his ship."

"The _Jamison?_" Surge straightened, looking thoughtful. "He never talked badly about anyone on there before... although I guess that doesn't necessarily mean anything."

Looker brightened a little and nodded. He was learning! It seemed that Gym Leaders could be taught after all. "That is correct."

"But that still leaves you with the same problem of the fast-acting poison."

It was true, and the thought made Looker frown. Perhaps he was simply trying too hard to avoid an obvious and stupid answer _because _it was so obvious and stupid? The case did make a certain kind of sense if Veronica Matthews had doctored two capsules... but then again, Looker was one of the elite of Interpol for a reason. He had been wrong before, but not on such a grand scale. Doctoring painkillers implied premeditation, which simply didn't fit with the way Miss Matthews would have had to have carried the murder out. She had access to much more slow-acting poisons than cyanide, as well, probably including several that would be flushed out of a system quick enough to avoid detection. Assuming her to be of reasonable intelligence, the modus operandi simply did not fit her.

That only left the _Jamison, _which presented its own problems. For someone on the _Jamison _to be responsible, there must have been something to delay the cyanide somehow - and not for five or ten minutes, but for _hours. _But what on earth would that be? The crew of the _Jamison _had already been interviewed, as well, and Detective Yamato probably would have noticed something odd about them... although this was the same man who had forgotten to mention that Matthews' sister only spoke English and had kept the autopsy report back for an unnecessarily long time, so maybe that didn't mean very much.

Ugh... this case was turning out to be nothing like Looker had thought it would be. Except for his suspicions about the headaches. How ironic, that the victim had suffered from them and was now _causing _them.

"Hey."

Looker started and blinked at an amused Surge. He'd just been completely lost in thought for a good few seconds there, hadn't he? That must have looked very professional, and in front of a Gym Leader to boot. Looker's tiredness was making him clumsy, and he almost dropped Mihara's notebook when it was thrown at him.

"There," Surge said. His expression was neutral now, but Looker wondered what might be behind that mask. "It might jog your memory. Hope your English comprehension is better than your catching skills."

"My English comprehension is _excellent,_" Looker retorted, feeling a little stung. Maybe if Lt. Surge spoke five different languages he would have trouble with fluency, too. Looker peered at the slanted scrawl. Then he squinted at it. It didn't magically become perfectly readable. "...But I am not sure completely that this _is _English."

Surge just chuckled and shook his head. Looker was about ready to give up on trying to understand him - he had been ready to hit this man earlier, but now he was laughing? Before Surge had seemed to dislike him just as much as the opposite was true - now he was comfortable enough to laugh off an insult. As insults went, it had been pitiful, and Looker hadn't really thought hard enough about it to mean it... but it was an odd development all the same.

He didn't understand it at all and it _bothered _him, just as it always bothered him when he couldn't nail down someone's character. He forced the whole thing to the back of his head. It didn't matter, anyway. The murder mattered, and although he wasn't sure about the suggestion, he had the notebook in his hands and skimming it would be a better use of his time than speculating about the character of a Gym Leader.

Surge's handwriting actually wasn't _too_ poor; it just took a few seconds to adjust to. Looker muttered under his breath as he skimmed Miss Matthew's description of the evening. It was only a half-hearted attempt. He didn't really feel like it would help anything, but the only other thing he had to do was to speculate about a potential murderer on the _Jamison, _and that was going to get him nowhere whilst he knew so little about it.

_Then maybe a few minutes later was when he collapsed..._

Looker sighed.

"Problem?" Surge asked.

He shook his head slowly. "A dead end. There is very little which I am able to do with so little information, and nothing more which must be done here without lab results firstly. I must interview the _Jamison _crew as soon as possible."

"Not _all _of them, I hope," Surge muttered. "That would be a couple dozen at least."

Looker waved a hand dismissively, although if it came to that, he wasn't looking forward to reading a few dozen interviews in Surge's handwriting, either. "The relevant crew members. There has already been the basic statements taken, so I should be able to hopefully pick out those who it would be wise to question further."

"Right. And how long will that take?"

There was something in Surge's tone that made Looker frown at him. He couldn't quite place it; it wasn't _hostile, _he didn't think, or even particularly cold, it was simply... different. "That will depend exactly on how many members the crew has, and also probably what I wish to be asking them."

"Uh-huh," Surge said, in a voice that was almost sceptical, but not _quite. _"And when was the last time you ate?"

Looker blinked. "Why are-"

"Just answer."

He had to think about it for a second. The plane journey had been too short for an in-flight meal, and Looker didn't trust the fast food chains at the airport itself. ...Did he eat after the arrest or after discovering the family had been behind the kidnapping...?

"You know what?" Surge said, sighing. "If it takes you more than five seconds to answer, it's been too long. Come on, there's a place round the corner that gives me a discount."

Looker frowned at him. "What...?"

"You can study all your notes when you're there," Surge added, probably as an attempt to seem placating. It didn't quite work on a man who had once been a drill sergeant and was exercising every bit of that power now. "Interpol Agents need to eat just as much as the rest of us."

Oh, _now _he could place that tone of voice. Surge was being _patronising. _

* * *

The restaurant which Surge got a discount at turned out to be a small, family-owned place two streets away, which Looker was honestly surprised a Gym Leader had noticed. Apart from its size, it was tucked between two much more gaudy places - another restaurant and a foreign films cinema - and most of the cloth-covered tables inside were empty. In comparison to its surroundings, this place was faded; even the paint on the walls looked paler than it ought to have been. Looker much preferred it to the Lanturn Hotel, but he couldn't call it his favourite place in Vermillion City.

There was one very bored waitress sitting at one of the tables, occupied with something on her cell phone. Her long hair was dyed a bright pink that almost made Looker squint - it was certainly the brightest thing in the room. She looked up as Lt. Surge pushed the door open and cheered instantly.

"Hey, Akane," Surge greeted cheerfully.

"We weren't expecting to see you until this weekend!" Akane said, putting her cell phone away. "What are you doing here so early?"

He gave her a lopsided grin. "I was in the neighbourhood, and I needed to feed a... friend. He's in the city investigating a murder. Interpol."

Looker caught the pause, but the waitress didn't seem to notice. She gave Looker a curious glance, to which he inclined his head and tried not to look uncomfortable. He was used to going in disguise or, well, at _least _flying under the radar. Being advertised like that would have gotten him killed on some of his past assignments.

"Anyway," Surge continued, "I should be asking you what _you're _doing here. You better not be skipping again."

"I'm not!" she said defensively, pouting. "The teachers have the day off to go to our old headmaster's funeral, and I'm covering for Soichiro because he thought his girlfriend's birthday was next week."

"That idiot," Surge said, but his tone was affectionate. "So, what's the special today? Anything good?"

Surge picked a table in the corner, and Looker tried not to frown at the selection of food when he was shown a menu (faded and worn, like the rest of the place). Why was it that only Greeks made decent food? Even after many years of eating out of his home country, it continued to baffle him. In the end he ordered a chicken salad and tried not to become too optimistic. Ordering the Greek salad would have just been setting himself up for a disappointment. Eating out was the only time that he ever really got homesick.

"You could look a _little _less miserable," Surge said, peering at him. "A break'll probably do you good, anyway."

"Hm," was all Looker said. He might have had a point there - and at the very least taking a break wouldn't _damage _his progress right now - but he wasn't willing to admit it aloud. He tried to change the subject instead. "Why is it that you get a discount here?"

He could see instantly that it had been a bad subject to pick. Surge did laugh, but nervously. He glanced around the room rather than meet Looker's eyes. "Ah, well, you know. War stuff. Is it that important?"

Interesting. For all that it made him uncomfortable, he had told the truth - at least partially. "It is not important," Looker said, but he filed the information away anyway.

The waitress Akane returned and Looker took out the police files rather than be drawn into a conversation. Surge, thankfully, did not protest his. It was technically against regulations to have these kind of documents out in the open, but no one in this place cared and what Kinney didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Lulls like this in a case were frustrating. Looker was known for getting things done quickly. There were always things to wait for, yes, but normally there was always someone else to interview, another part of the case to be worked on. It was because he didn't often get put on murder cases. Not that he particularly _wanted _to get more murder cases, but he wasn't used to working with such a narrow focus. Especially not with a sole suspect, which _still _bothered him. Veronica Matthews _was not that stupid! _So why was it shaping up to seem like she was?

He bit back a sigh and started glancing through the hotel staff interviews instead. They mostly said the same thing - victim arrived at 8.30pm, met sister for dinner, collapsed 12.15am; they must work _terrible _hours at that place - but a few of the dining staff had been in and out of the room all evening, and it would help corroborate Veronica Matthews' story. He'd been intending to ask Mihara about it, but he'd had to have her playing gopher instead.

_I took their orders at about 8.40pm..._

_...Mr. Matthews seemed normal when I checked in at half past ten..._

_...and when I took the desert order he asked for a glass of water to take some painkillers, but otherwise he seemed perfectly healthy._

Wait.

Something was off.

'When I _took _the desert order'?

Looker frowned at the interview for a few seconds. Matthews had collapsed _after _desert; he distinctly remembered that. If he'd taken the (potentially) poisoned paracetamol when they _ordered...? _That was an awfully long time for the cyanide to hit his system. But that would depend on the brand of painkillers. A lot of capsules didn't dissolve immediately. The timing was delicate, but it was just a matter of more testing to establish exactly when it would have started to take effect. Looker wished now that he'd gotten a look at them before he sent them for testing, just so he could start making estimations, but it was too late now.

No, there was something else. Something... when he _took _the desert order...

Urgently, he fished out Surge's notes again and started flicking through them. Veronica Matthews had said- there! _Headache partway through desert... _It was possible that she'd just been misremembering about the timing, but - no, a few sentences later: _he'd had some already, but he used to double up the doses..._

_I had a new box... _

Strange. Strange of her to say that the box was new when he took the _second _dose of paracetamol rather than mention it along with the first. In fact, the only reason why she would say it would be...

...Would be if the first dose had come from somewhere else.

Kent Matthews had taken painkillers from _two different sources. _He _had _swallowed cyanide disguised as a painkiller, but it was from the _Jamison, _not his sister!

No - no. Looker closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down. _No. _That was getting ahead of himself. Then he would be leaping to conclusions that weren't accurate. He had his theory, and it was a fine theory, but theories do not trump evidence. Ever.

"You look like you're having a seizure," Surge said.

Looker started. The waitress had disappeared at some point - he hadn't noticed when - and Surge was watching him with... a look that wasn't exactly concerned, but certainly interested. Before he could decide whether he should answer, Akane was back with a salad and something meaty and probably American (ugh). At least that explained where she'd disappeared to.

He still didn't know if he was going to tell Surge or not. He hadn't been helpful so far, really, but he hadn't _quite_ been _un_helpful either - yet. With how he seemed prone to flying off the handle, maybe Looker was thinking a little prematurely. But at the same time he had proven, at the very least, that he might be better than some Gym Leaders he had met. That wasn't saying very much, but he _did _have power in this city and if Yamato kept up this streak of incompetence, Looker might need to have him on his side.

"There is another way in which Matthews could have ingested the poison," he said, eventually. "There were two sets of painkillers."

Surge almost choked. "_What?_"

Looker analysed his salad a little critically. There wasn't enough lettuce, but it seemed otherwise above the normal standard. He pushed the papers across the table.

Surge frowned at them in confusion. "What?"

...Of course he didn't get it. Looker reminded himself again that he had not been unhelpful. _Yet. _"Miss Matthews does mention specifically two separate doses of painkillers. The first does not seem to have been given by her to the victim, however."

"Huh." He sat up a little straighter and studied at the papers for another few seconds. "I dunno if I would've seen that," he admitted, eventually.

"You are not a detective."

"Neither are you," Surge pointed out, "_Agent _Looker."

This was true, but Looker had never stopped thinking of himself as a detective. He had first gotten into law enforcement as an officer with the desire to become one, and even joining Interpol - where Agents operated a _little _more broadly than detectives - hadn't changed much.

He didn't say this, though. He merely shrugged.

"Earlier you said any other source of cyanide must have come from the _Jamison_," Surge said, after a pause. "So you think... what, someone doctored some painkillers there and... gave them to him?" Looker nodded, a little exasperated. What _else _would his theory be? "Okay then. So who did it?"

"I do not know," he muttered, taking the papers away from Surge aggain. Looker had been planning to look at the statements taken from the crew to see if he could narrow down the suspect list, but he'd had no chance yet.

"Who _could _have done it?" Surge persisted. "It's not like _they _work in pharmaceuticals. I'm no expert, but I'd bet good money cyanide's not exactly easy to come by."

Looker frowned halfway through skimming a list of names. This, too, was a good point. The _Jamison _had not been docked long when Kent Matthews left it; certainly not long enough for one of the crew to go out and procure, then return with, potassium cyanide. So it must have been present on the ship before docking. But that had been checked by the Vermillion police - the _Jamison _did not ship anything containing cyanide and neither did their company. Unless-

He tapped his fingers against the table absent-mindedly. It might be considered a stretch of his theory, but on the other hand, if he couldn't explain this, then he had no right to be making such a theory anyway. "Cyanide is required for health for many poison types..."

Training laws were complicated things - Interpol knew better than anyone because they had to wrestle with them every day, not least because they tied into every other section of the law. Employment was an especially tricky one. Many companies would provide a pokemon for the work you had to do, but where did you draw the line between a trainer and a worker? Some countries required registration of _all _pokemon to company records, some only required registration of _company _pokemon, and some just didn't care at all and left it up to the company in question. It was a headache.

"The shipping company which your friend worked for," Looker said slowly, still half lost in thought, "It was British? American? Do you know?"

"What's that got to do with anything?" Surge asked, but he relented under Looker's glare. "I don't know, it's not the sort of thing I ask." He seemed almost suspicious. "Why? What are you thinking this time?"

Looker was barely paying attention. He was flicking through the papers, mentally cursing this alien admin system, and hoping that Detective Yamato had thought to collect something that at the time he'd had little reason to suspect was relevant. "Which laws the _Jamison _is under."

"Why does that matter?"

This time he ignored Surge. _Doyle&Co. _had their headquarters in America, but the _Jamison _would be bound to the laws of its home port, which was _probably_ America but could equally have been one of many other places in the world - including Britain, Matthews' birthplace. Yamato hadn't collected the information either, so Looker had no real way of finding out that wouldn't potentially tip off the murderer, and if he did _that, _the chances of securing a conviction dropped significantly. He could ask Kinney for help, but he was a busy man and if the company was stubborn and demanded to know _why_...

Surge suddenly slapped his hand against the table, making Looker jump so violently that he smacked the back of his head on the wall behind him.

"Whatever you're doing, _stop,_" Surge said forcefully.

Looker blinked at him, too surprised to even feel annoyed about the head injury.

"You're _panicking,_" Surge continued, "And-"

"I am _not_-" Looker began indignantly.

Surge ignored him. "_And _it's obviously not helping."

"I am not panicking," he repeated.

"Whatever you say," Surge drawled. He obviously didn't agree, but he spoke again before Looker could argue the point. "Frankly, I kinda got lost when you started going on about poison-types. Now you want to fill me in on the problem or are you just going to sit there and fret?"

Looker was getting tired of explaining everything to Surge. To be honest, he was getting tired of everything. Not for the first time, he wished that humans were capable of the same sort of feats of endurance as pokemon. Not having to sleep and eat would help him a lot more in the long run.

He ended up telling Surge anyway. His thoughts about having a cooperative Gym Leader following him around rather than a disagreeable one still stuck with him.

"So why can't you just walk up and _ask _if any of them have any poison-types?" Surge said, almost as soon as he had finished.

"It would be - I think you say tilting your hand?" This got a chuckle and a nod. Looker was confused, but he assumed Surge knew what he meant, so he pressed on. "If they are under American law, where employment and trainer pokemon are considered to be separate, then it is perfectly legal for them to refuse to cooperate. It is probable that I could gather evidence that would require them to reveal, but it would take time, and in that they could have... disposed of the pokemon somehow. There would certainly be records of it, but they could claim they had released it long before the murder, and it would be very difficult to prove otherwise."

"Okay," Surge agreed. "But if they're under - for example - British law...?"

"There remains the problem of disposing of their pokemon," he admitted. "But here there is no separation, and therefore I could arrest them for the crime of disguising this from the law. It would be easier for myself in general."

"I guess that makes sense," Surge said slowly. He was frowning as he said it, and Looker thought he was struggling to keep this all in his head - but in his defence, he certainly didn't go looking for this sort of mess as a Gym Leader, and he was coping well for a beginner. At least he was _trying._ "But you have to somehow find that out _and _who has a poison-type before you can even _think _about arresting anyone?"

"That is a good summary."

He laughed quietly, shaking his head in disbelief. "Jesus, how do you get _anything _done in this job?"

"There _is _a way I might be able to discover something, which I have used previously," Looker mused. Dolos hadn't had a real chance to rest from the last case yet... but he should be fine if it came to that. "I would rather not resort to it, however."

"I don't think I like the sound of that," Surge said pointedly, raising his eyebrows.

"It is not illegal!" Looker assured him. After achieveing some sort of peace, he didn't particularly want to provoke him again. "It simply... does not give an impression which is the best."

Surge relaxed, but winced a little. "Okay, this is reminding me of some of my conversations with _Koga_. Let's stop there."

Koga... right, he was the one who pretended to be a ninja... or was actually a ninja, depending on who you talked to. Why did Japan always turn out the weirdest Gym Leaders?

"Actually..." Surge said, breaking Looker out of his thoughts. He was frowning, and didn't immediately continue. "Centres keep their records going a while back, don't they?"

"It varies," Looker said mildly, but he'd already started thinking. "Most do so."

Kent Matthews had obviously been to Vermillion before, and it was likely that most of the rest of the crew had too - and unless this had been planned _years _in advance, which was highly unlikely, they probably all would have checked their pokemon in there at one point or another.

The Centre would still have those records; that was a certainty. It was also very frustrating, because Looker had no legal way of getting at those records.

Lt. Surge, on the other hand, _did_.

"I think I might be able to solve half of your problem," he said.


	3. Part Three

**Part Three**

Looker had contacted Kinney about finding out exactly what jurisdiction the _Jamison _fell under, and left investigating the Centre's records to Surge.

He wasn't particularly happy about either of these things.

Fred Kinney was a good man, and he'd promised to put his question as a priority, but Looker knew him well enough to know that he would probably promise the same thing to the next Agent who called him if they pushed him hard enough. This case was being watched closely, which might work in his favour for once, but Looker wasn't getting his hopes up - that way he had a chance of being pleasantly surprised.

It didn't bother him half as much as letting Lt. Surge take over even a _sliver _of the investigation did. Not only was he not a detective, he was a _Gym Leader!_ Surge hadn't struck Looker as the worst type, considering everything, and in many ways he was maybe even likable... but he'd thought the same thing of other Gym Leaders, before he'd known better. Just because people had the power to do something didn't mean they _would _do it.

He didn't think that Surge would suddenly change his mind and not access the Centre records for him. Not exactly. It was that he kept trying to make himself _helpful, _and worryingly it was even _working _to an extent - but there was no guarantee that Surge would always want to be so involved.

After all, in Sinnoh they'd been perfectly happy to leave Team Galactic to a twelve year old girl. Leaving a murder to an Interpol Agent was positively charitable in comparison. Looker would much rather that Surge had done that from the beginning. It wasn't the expectation that he'd do it alone that he minded; it was that he might not get any warning about it.

Dawn hadn't been prepared for Team Galactic, but she had managed to face them anyway.

Looker was not nearly so good at improvising. Whilst Lt. Surge insisted on shadowing him, he might as well make use of it. But he was going to have to watch himself very carefully to make sure he didn't get accustomed to him being there.

It wouldn't last.

* * *

Since he had nothing else to do until the information from the _Jamison _came in, Looker returned to Vermillion Police Station to wait for the results of the cyanide testing. It was entirely possible that it would come back positive and Lt. Surge's little side trip would be for nothing. Looker would get a few laughs out of that if it proved to be the case, but he didn't consider it very likely. His theory was still just that, but he hadn't gone wrong often in the past, not when he'd latched on to something like this.

So when Mihara found him half an hour after he'd arrived back to announce that there wasn't a trace of potassium cyanide on or in the painkillers belonging to Veronica Matthews, Looker wasn't surprised.

"I don't understand," Mihara said, shoulders slumping. "I was so certain that this was how he was poisoned."

"I reconsidered after reviewing some of the staff interviews," Looker answered. Mihara's eyes widened, and he was reminded again that she seemed much younger than she was. He sighed and beckoned her over, pointing out the relevant pieces from the interviews.

To her credit, she was much quicker on the uptake than Surge. "Oh, so there were _two _separate sources - then you think the first one was the poisoned one, sir?"

"That is what I believe, yes."

"But..." She frowned, rereading the excerpts. "If the victim was the one who carried these paracetamol with him - why haven't we found their container?"

Looker sat up straight. How on earth had he missed that? It was highly unlikely that Matthews had carried just the pills, so Mihara was right - there _should _have been some sort of container. Which meant that they were still missing something, somehow.

"Forensics - they took everything away from the crime scene?"

"Yes sir," Mihara said firmly. "We've worked with this team before, and they're very experienced. They certainly wouldn't have left anything behind."

Her faith in her colleagues was touching. She knew them better than Looker, so he decided to trust her on this one. "In that case, then it is possible that something has been overlooked."

It wouldn't surprise him, actually. It rarely happened in a normal case, but it wasn't unheard of - and this time there would have been pressure to get all the basics of the investigation compiled quickly. Honestly, he wouldn't blame anyone if something _had _been overlooked. He doubted that the detectives would be quite as happy with themselves, though.

But that wasn't his problem. His problem was finding the missing pieces of the puzzle.

Mihara must have recognised something in his expression, because her lips quirked and she said, "I'll take you down to forensics, sir."

* * *

There was something about labs that still unnerved Looker. He knew how crucial it was to crime investigation, especially these days, and he wasn't proud enough to think that even he could solve all of his cases without the help of science. It might have been because he preferred to rely on his mind to reach a conclusion, but despite everything the crisp, chemical-scented air of forensics labs always made him feel anxious.

Then again, it could easily be the fault of people like this man, who seemed to wear the mask and full-body suits of forensics out of habit. He blinked at Looker and Mihara as they entered. "Can I help you?"

"We need to see the evidence for the Matthews case," Mihara told him. She, at least, seemed at ease here, if not confident. Looker spared a mental curse for the white glare of the lighting. What was wrong with sunlight? Really.

"Sure," the forensics guy said, but he didn't move. It took a moment for Looker to realise he was peering at him suspiciously. "Can I see some ID, please?"

Looker sighed and offered him his badge for what felt like the millionth time today.

The man frowned at it for a few seconds, and then he blinked. "Oh! Oh, er - sorry, Agent Kokinos."

"It is no problem," he assured him, trying not to sound too tired.

Mr. Forensics handed the ID back hastily and nodded. "Well, uh. Okay then. Right this way please!" He seemed to get over his embarrassment quickly, but Looker couldn't actually tell because he could only see a few inches of his face. "What did you particularly want to see?" Forensics added, to Mihara.

"The victim, he took painkillers from - somewhere," Looker cut in, seeing her suddenly look a little panicked. "A box or..." He couldn't find the word for a few seconds. "Con- contrainer? Is that right?"

"Container," Forensics corrected absently. Then he brightened. "Hey, there was something like that! I don't know if it's what you're looking for, though. Something English on it."

"I would like to see it," Looker said.

He was trying to work out what effect English words might have on its use to carry a murder weapon when the forensics man darted into a room so suddenly that Looker almost walked past it.

A pair of gloves was thrown at him and another at Mihara as they stepped through the door. Both nearly dropped them, and by the time Looker had pulled his on - pulling a face at the uncomfortable constricting feeling - a small brown translucent case had appeared on the table in the middle of the room.

"Well," Forensics said awkwardly, "There it is."

Mihara was giving it a vaguely disappointed look, but he was anything but. He recognised this style of plastic as typical of prescribed medicines, including those in Britain and America. It had the same style of label; that would account for the English that the forensics man had dismissed so readily-

He frowned at the label on the bottle. There was a name there, although the typing was faint and he had to hold it up to the light to see it properly. The date on it was years ago, but that didn't necessarily mean anything other than it had been given then. There was a G... no, C...

"C. Forde," he muttered. He couldn't remember coming across the name. "Mihara, are you remembering anyone by that name?"

"I... I don't know about the 'C'," she answered hesitantly, "But I think there was a Forde in the crew? It sounds familiar, anyway."

"Well, the name is easy to check," Looker said, hiding his disappointment. It wasn't as though he would lose anything from the delay. He turned to Forensic. "You checked this for cyanide? It was negative?"

His brows furrowed in what Looker could only assume was a scowl beneath his mask. "Of course it was! Do you think we're stupid?" He suddenly paused. "Are you sure this is what you're looking for? I mean, the only odd thing we found about it was it had the victim's fingerprints on it."

Looker persisted. "You tested all of it? The outside as well?"

"We-" he started to say, then pulled up short suddenly with another frown. "Huh. You know, I'll have to check that; it wasn't me who tested this one. We _should _have done, though..."

He spent the next few seconds absorbed in the notes of someone with worse handwriting than Lt. Surge. Mihara shifted uncomfortably.

"Oh," he said. He flicked to another page. "Well... um. Damn."

Looker tried his best to stop himself putting his face in his hands. He ended up pressing his fingers very firmly against his temples to keep himself from commenting.

"In our defence," Forensics said tentatively, "We were being kinda rushed."

"I understand," Looker said, sighing.

"I'll, uh, get started on that now, then," Forensics said weakly. But he didn't actually move a muscle, except to flick his eyes pointedly towards the door.

"We'll leave you to it, then," Mihara said, with some forced cheerfulness. "Send the results to Detective Yamato when you're done!"

"Will do!" he answered, equally cheerful, but he shut the door behind Looker quite forcefully. He tried not to take offence. He had, after all, just insulted his pride as a professional and been _right _about it.

"A mistake like that is very unusual for them here," Mihara reassured him hastily, as they walked back up to the police's half of the building. "I haven't seen them do anything like that before."

"It is quite understandable," Looker said. "Interpol has been under pressure about this case from the beginning. It is not surprising that it was passed down. Mistakes happen." Though that didn't mean it was any less frustrating when they _did_.

She nodded absently. "Yes, Detective Yamato said that the investigation would go a lot smoother if Interpol would just stay out of things- not that that's a reflection of you, sir!" she added hastily.

"I have not taken offence," Looker assured her. She relaxed a little. "But, it is true that someone must do what Interpol does."

"But why?" Mihara blurted suddenly. He blinked, startled, and she bit her lip. "Well, I... I don't really understand why we can't leave crimes to their local jurisdiction, sir."

"That... is not an uncommon way of thinking," he admitted slowly. "In the past, I also have thought that way."

But Looker was old, or at least he felt old enough to forget that he was really thirty-two. That attitude had seemed perfectly fine when he was living in Greece, but travelling had lead him to realise that everyone was concerned with local issues, local interests, local threats. The world was made up of communities, and at least on the lower levels of these, people were genuinely cooperative with one another, working together to improve their home from within.

Only... being concerned only with what was happening to you, believing that people should sort out their own problems and stay out of yours - that was the sort of attitude that let criminals like Team Galactic thrive. As long as they remained a mere nuisance, no Gym Leader would bother wasting their energy removing them from the city, and the police didn't have the power to fight against an organised group of trainers like that. But what was a nuisance for each city was an epidemic when taken as a whole, and a nuisance could easily be a front for something much more dangerous and deeply-rooted.

Of course no one noticed this because no one would look beyond their boundaries, and trainers, unless they were something extraordinary, didn't have the power to fix the situation _if _they noticed it - most of them, after all, even the experienced ones, were just children.

If Interpol didn't exist, though, that was all the world _would _have.

All Looker said was: "Some things occur on a bigger scale than local can handle."

* * *

As soon as Looker opened the door to his temporary office, something hit him straight in the face. He recoiled automatically, smacking his head hard against the doorframe and swearing loudly. It was probably a good job nobody here spoke Greek. He grimaced and reached to rub at his head as he stepped back into the room. That was twice in one day he'd hit his head - it wasn't close to over yet.

"Sorry," Surge said, grinning and utterly unapologetic. He had commandeered the chair behind Looker's desk, but it _was _the only chair in the room. "I've been waiting here for ten minutes. What took you so long?"

"I was in forensics," Looker said flatly. He was not really in the mood for jokes from anyone, least of all a Gym Leader.

Surge raised his eyebrows. "Oookay. Find anything?"

He seriously considered not telling him, but decided after a moment that that would be counter-productive. "Possibly the container for the contaminated painkiller. It is being tested."

"What, they didn't do that before?"

"It was overlooked." Looker scowled at Surge when this only raised an incredulous look from him. "It sometimes happens."

He seemed to consider this for a moment, then shrugged. "Well, good job _I _was productive, anyway."

Looker rolled his eyes. "And what did you produce?"

Surge chuckled.

"...It was what you threw at me."

"Not gonna deny it," he answered cheerfully.

Looker sighed.

"Come on, you would've laughed if it had been me."

This was probably true, but he'd already turned to find the folder Surge had thrown at him, and didn't answer. Mihara, it turned out, had picked it up, and had apparently taken it upon herself to go through it, explaining why she'd been quiet for a while.

Her eyes were wide in shock and caught his attention immediately. Looker opened his mouth to ask, but before he could speak, Mihara said, "Sir... this Charles Forde..."

So it seemed as though they were on the right track. Looker brightened. "That matches the initials from the prescription bottle."

"Yes, but..." She shook her head and turned the papers towards him, showing the black and white photo on the first page. "Sir, this is the Captain_._"

Looker wondered why this was shocking.

He didn't notice that Surge had rushed from his seat until he was snatching the papers out of Mihara's hands. "_What?_"

Alright, now Looker just felt left out. "I think I am missing something here?"

"He and Kent were good friends," Surge said, before Mihara could answer. Judging by her expression, this wasn't the reason she had in mind. "I can't believe he'd kill him."

"He has a poison-type?" Looker asked innocently.

"An arbok," he admitted. "But-"

"And he is the only one?"

"_Yes, _but-"

"And the probable container of the poison was a prescription bottle with his name on it?"

"Okay, _fine,_" Surge snapped, glaring at him. "You've made your point, he fits. But still, they were good friends - why would he suddenly kill him?"

Looker shrugged. "I do not know, yet. But most murders are by a person known to the victim, so it is not so surprising. Knowing that they were friends, to me, that makes it more likely than if he was merely the Captain."

Surge muttered something that was probably insulting under his breath, but Looker wasn't close enough to hear. Mihara, if she could tell what it was, didn't say anything. She looked confused. "I... sir? Can I ask why it's important that the Captain has a poison-type?"

"Some poison-types require cyanide to be healthy," he said. "It was only speculation on how a crew member might have obtained cyanide. Although it seems to have been borne out."

Surge frowned at him. "You know, I don't think I asked how you know that?"

Looker shrugged. "I myself have a poison-type."

Mihara started to ask something else, but the connecting door opened suddenly before she could finish. Detective Yamato was standing there and, in the background, Looker could just about see the others frantically grabbing coats and pokeballs. He scanned the room briefly. "Mihara, we've got a lead on some new illegals on route 6. Grab Ken so we can get out of here."

"Yes sir!" she answered immediately, disappearing through the other door rather than push past him.

Yamato made to close the door, but then paused and turned to Looker. "How is the case progressing?"

"Well," Looker said shortly.

He nodded. "Right. I'll get Mihara to fill me in as we travel. Good luck."

Then he shut the door behind him, and the room next door fell silent several seconds later.

"Illegals," Looker said carefully. "What did he mean?"

"Illegal immigrants," Surge said with a wince. "The numbers have been going up since the trade boom... the harbour master's supposed to keep them out, but he's not doing a great job. Once they've got past the controls at the port, it's the police's job to round them up."

"If the harbour master is so poor, can you not replace him?" Looker asked. As best as he could remember, the Gym Leaders were technically required to get the approval of the Elites or the Champion for appointments in the city, but nowadays that mostly boiled down to just getting the order stamped. They very rarely vetoed anything anymore.

"I could, in theory," Surge said. "But his old man was in the position before him, and, well... when you're an outsider there can be repercussions of breaking tradition like that." He shrugged, although his face was carefully expressionless, and Looker thought that he was more bothered than he was trying to let on. "That's the way of things sometimes."

"I... see."

Looker was... surprised, in all honesty. He hadn't thought Surge knew that much about the goings on of this city, let alone enough to be influenced by them. Of course, for most people in the city, this sort of thing would mean very little, and he doubted Surge thought about them very much - and he certainly didn't look very far beyond Vermillion's borders. Still... maybe he had been a little quick to judge. Maybe not all Gym Leaders were as bad as the ones in Sinnoh.

"Anyway," Surge said abruptly, in a mildly successful attempt at cheer, "Now you've got a new suspect, what do we do?"

"I do not believe there is much we can do, for the moment," Looker said. "I am still waiting for test results, and also to know whether the _Jamison _is under British or American law. However, I suspect American. I think the Captain would know better than illegally trying to conceal a pokemon."

"So... you're saying there's _nothing _to do?" he asked. "_Seriously?_"

"I do not think there is anything particularly pressing," Looker said, but he was thinking about it. Lt. Surge did not seem the type who was very good at doing nothing for any length of time and, for that matter, neither was he. "Although... it would not be a terrible idea to interview Veronica Matthews once more. If her brother was behaving oddly, it is possible that it could help establish a motive."

Surge nodded. "Sounds like a good a plan as any." He paused, then pulled a face. "This means I'll have to take notes again, doesn't it?"

"Yes. I am sure it is a sad thing for you." That was a good point. Did he still have Mihara's notebook? Wait, he did, it was in his pocket. He hoped that she wouldn't need it whilst she was out with Detective Yamato, and made a mental note to return it to her as soon as possible. She could get in trouble for that.

"Don't you have one of those transcript things?" Surge persisted. "It takes down your words automatically. I know they exist, shouldn't Interpol have a gadget like that?"

"They are not reliably accurate enough. In any case," Looker added dryly, "If Interpol had them, then police departments, they would complain of not having them, and then you Gym Leaders would be needing to spend a large amount on purchasing them."

Surge huffed. "We're not all misers, you know."

"But it is true that there are better things to spend the city's money on."

"Well... yeah." He gave him a look that was supposed to be sour, but his lips were twitching with a suppressed smile. "Is it in your job description to spoil everyone's fun?"

"Of course not," Looker said mildly, glancing through the case file to find Captain Forde's statement. Yamato's team had made the connection of the name, but with no link to the poisoning they'd had no reason to doubt Forde's story that Matthews had borrowed it a while ago for something. "It is only for personal recreation."

Surge laughed, and Looker allowed himself a grin as well.

* * *

"I didn't expect you to be back again so quickly," Miss Matthews admitted.

Looker resisted the urge to add something sarcastic. When she was in her pyjamas and dressing gown, it was really just too obvious to be funny. "The case, it has been progressing quicker than we expected."

"I'm glad to hear that!" she said, apparently sincerely. "Am I still the main suspect?"

He couldn't help but smile at her tone. He'd never heard that question asked with such polite curiosity before. "I believe that we have acquired a new one."

"Wonderful." She gestured to the small sofa in the corner of the room. There was an armchair next to it, which she took. "Please, have a seat."

Looker was very much aware of the fact that this one piece of furniture probably cost as much as half of that in his apartment. Granted, his apartment was fairly sparsely furnished because he was rarely there - but still, it was uncomfortably expensive. The fact that this room was just as big as his own lounge, even though it was only _part _of what Veronica Matthews was paying for... it was sort of mind boggling.

Surge, of course, somehow managed to look like he belonged there. Damn Gym Leaders and their salaries.

"How can I help you?" Miss Matthews asked.

Looker cleared his throat. "Ah, yes. Mostly, I am here to ask about your brother's mood."

She frowned. "Mood?"

"Yes. What did he seem like? He was distracted, or maybe angry...?"

"Oh, no," she said quickly. The frown deepened. "Well... I don't think so." She laughed nervously. "I didn't know him very well, really. We only saw each other a few times a year - and that was because he refused to talk to our parents in person."

Looker nodded. From what she had said before, he hadn't been too optimistic about what Miss Matthews would be able to share; she probably knew more than she realised, but if the two didn't care for one another, then it wouldn't be able to do much more than point them in the right direction, at best. "Still, anything which you are able to tell us, it would be helpful."

"If you say so," she said, dubiously. There was a lengthy pause, but Looker didn't interrupt. "I think... there _was _something bothering him, actually. He seemed - not distracted, I don't think, but oddly - depressed?" She frowned to herself, lost in thought. "Depressed, I think. He drank a fair amount. He wasn't _drunk, _but he was certainly tipsy. He doesn't normally do that in front of me."

That was... interesting. Looker hadn't expected to hear that he was upset - in his experience, murderers seemed to kill mostly when they felt threatened. A victim angered by something a murderer had done would be likely to speak out. A distracted victim suggested they might be trying to understand the importance of something they'd seen. There were clear motives there. But _depressed? _

Yes... interesting was the word for it. "He did not say what he had been upset by?"

She let out a bitter laugh that made Surge, next to him, jump suddenly. Looker glanced at him, but he only seemed startled.

"No," Miss Matthews said, when her laughter had died down. "No, Kent wasn't the confiding type. Especially with his little sister. Although... he did say something odd." She frowned again, tapping her fingers against the chair of the arm. "One of our cousins got arrested for drug dealing recently." Looker blinked, but either she hadn't quite realised what she was saying or she simply didn't care - actually, it was probably the latter. "I told Kent about it because - well, family gossip, you know?" She hesitated. "This might not be relevant."

Looker knew a lot about family gossip, yes. It had been his mother's favourite past time. Personally, he had never really seen the appeal, although it was a little more polite than gossiping about the neighbours. "Please go on."

She nodded, but there was a pause before she resumed speaking. "Well, this cousin of ours, he'd always been very - very... straight, growing up. He was the last person I expected to be arrested for such a thing. I told Kent because I thought it was funny but he said - he said something odd." Another moment of hesitation. "This was towards the end of the evening, so I - maybe it was because he was tipsy. But he said, _'You think you know someone, but it turns out they were a lot worse than you thought.' _It was weird because... he sounded so _bitter, _you see, but neither of us had ever particularly liked our cousin."

That would certainly explain why she'd found the arrest _funny. _Looker had never met the rest of her family but he was starting to wonder if it was a good idea to have one of them in such a high position in government - _any _government. It was difficult to imagine a decent person amongst them, even by the standards of politicians.

But that sentiment was probably something he should keep to himself, considering that one of that family had been Surge's friend.

He let the silence go on for a moment longer, then said, "That is all?"

"Yes, sorry," Miss Matthews said, sitting a little straighter. She had returned to her normal confidence. The change was a little unnerving. "As I said, we weren't very close, so if there was some other sign of something wrong, I didn't see it."

"Well, you have regardless been helpful," Looker told her, although she had not been so much helpful as _bewildering. _"I would like to ask another question."

"Go ahead."

"It may seem strange, but - the timing exactly of when your brother took both sets of painkillers, it would be very helpful."

"The exact timing?" she asked, frowning slightly. "Well... I don't know if I can remember _exactly, _but... someone must've given him some before he left his ship, he took those... then about five minutes later he said they weren't working fast enough and took mine."

"Five minutes?" Looker repeated.

Miss Matthews shrugged. "He was always quite impatient. Anyway, like I said, he'd been drinking, he wasn't thinking straight."

It still seemed stupid, but he was fairly sure she wasn't lying - there would be no point. "And, when he collapsed, it was... how many minutes later?"

"Almost ten," she answered, after a pause. "Maybe more than ten, I'm not sure. It didn't feel like very long."

"I see," Looker said.

The timing might still be a bit of an issue, then. He couldn't establish exactly which set of painkillers had killed Matthews - testing would only do so much when he didn't have the other to compare with it. He hoped ten minutes would be enough of a gap to make it, at the very least, _unlikely _to have been from a commercial capsule such as Miss Matthews'. But with things as they were, he might have to rely on other evidence, or even a _confession, _for there to be a solid case against Captain Forde - though if the test for cyanide came back positive, it would be hard to dismiss it all as 'circumstantial'.

Still, as he said his thanks and goodbyes to Miss Matthews, Looker was beginning to feel like the case was coming to a close. Maybe a resolution wasn't that close, necessarily, but he felt like even if the mysteries surrounding it hadn't been resolved, it was getting to the point whether they either would be or wouldn't be.

This probably should have made him feel relieved instead of worried, but, well - Looker had never been entirely typical for an investigator. And it worried him because knowing the truth didn't necessarily mean you were able to prove it. The thought that he might have to try extracting a confession from Forde weighed heavily on his mind. He hadn't even _met _this Forde person, and didn't remember reading a transcript of his interview, but murderers... very rarely confessed until there were no more outs for them. Even then, they were sometimes still trying to escape what they'd done.

_No... No, I didn't, I didn't-_

He shut his eyes.

"You okay?"

"I am fine," Looker said quickly, snapping them open again - possibly too quickly; Surge's face showed open concern and he looked anything but reassured by his answer.

He didn't comment further, but he was still studying Looker carefully even as he said, "So, what about that was actually helpful? Because it beats me, that's for sure."

Looker waved a hand dismissively, and tried to concentrate on seeming as normal as he ought to be. "Ah, it was not too helpful, but it is only polite to say otherwise. Actually, it was to myself... quite confusing."

"Oh good," Surge said sarcastically, "So the professional doesn't know either."

Looker didn't answer. Outside the Lanturn Hotel, the crowds were still almost as large as they had been earlier, even though it was pushing on for evening. Well, Vermillion City was famous for its sunsets - they were probably flocking to one of the many view spots by the harbour. Still, hewas struck by the sudden idea, probably helped by his exhaustion, that minutes, and not hours, had passed since he'd started on this case. The sun was out. It was crowded with the awestruck tourists and jaded locals that made Vermillion what it was. A wingull landed on top of a nearby building, scouting for its next meal.

He could wait.

The case didn't have to be solved immediately. There was still plenty of time left. The _Jamison _was not due to leave harbour yet, and could not, in any case. He could take time out to enjoy the tourist attractions that he liked so much, to find somewhere which served food that was up to his standards, to sleep, to take a _break_- a real one, not like before, when he had really just been doing some of the slower casework. Maybe things would make more sense if he stopped slamming his head against them, or maybe they wouldn't, but he had the time to see which of those was true. In all probability, nothing would happen if the investigation stretched on a few more hours.

_'So what if I am a little slow, a few more days does not hurt anyone...'_

Only it did.

Those hours would be hours in which one more murderer was loose in Vermillion City than Looker had the power to remove - hours in which that murderer had free reign, because there would be no one even _trying _to stop them. Maybe they wouldn't act in that time, but _God, _if you forgot that they _could_...

Looker could not pause a case like that anymore. He should have known better three years ago in Sinnoh, and he sure as hell knew better now.

He was only human and he knew he had to sleep at some point, so he would crash eventually. But until then there was no possible way he could stop.

"You _sure _you're okay?" Surge asked.

This time his expression had crossed the line from concern to downright worry, but it was alright, because Looker genuinely _did _feel fine this time.

"I am fine," he repeated.

At least, he felt as fine as he could feel under the circumstances.

The harsh shriek of a wingull caught his attention. He half-turned to see one flying in the direction of the harbour with the remnants of someone's sandwich clutched in its beak. Over the tops of the low-set buildings, he could see the sky just starting to go slightly pink at the horizon - and the tall gleaming metal of the many ships in port reflecting the light of the sun.

"Do you remember what I was saying previously?" he asked, mentally turning over the cons of the situation, and deciding he needed to do it anyway. "Of a method which was not illegal, but would not be seen favourably?"

"Yes..."

Surge sounded wary. He was probably right to be, at least slightly, but - if Looker could just have some idea of Forde's _motive, _even if he only narrowed the field down a little, he would have so much more of an advantage when he came to confront him in person.

"I believe it is time to try it."

"You _sure _that's a good idea?" Surge asked. "Not that I want to question your methods, but if the case against this guy gets _thrown out..._"

"It will not," Looker assured him.

He persisted. "Has that happened before?"

_"No._" Looker turned away from the harbour and scowled at him. "I suspect you are thinking this is much worse than it actually is."

Surge gave him a very sceptical look. "So you would be okay with talking about this under oath?"

Looker gritted his teeth. "No," he admitted. Surge raised his eyebrows and he held up a hand to stop whatever triumphant nonsense he was about to say. "But it is still not as terrible as what it is you are thinking. It only, as I have been saying, would not look favourable." He gave him a pointed look. "I have a _kecleon._"

"What, and he filches evidence for you?"

_"No,_" Looker snapped, reigning in his frustration with some difficulty. He tried not to look too bothered. "That _would _be illegal. I also have a psychic. It allows for images to be broadcasted to me. That is _all._"

Surge remained unimpressed. "That kinda sounds like it's legal because no one's thought to add it to the law books yet."

"I would not be suggesting it if I did not believe it to be necessary."

"And I wouldn't be stopping you if I didn't think it'd let Kent's killer walk free."

"_He may do so anyway,_" Looker retorted.

He regretted it instantly. Surge froze. "What?"

"I - I apologise," Looker said hurriedly. Now his irritation was directed at himself. Could he possibly have been any more callous? "That was not the best way to-"

"No. Go back to the part where you said he might _get away with it._"

He looked very frighteningly calm right then, and even if Looker hadn't been planning on telling him, he was suddenly unsure whether Surge would have given him the choice. "The evidence is not... firm enough to get a conviction for certain."

"How the hell does that work?" Surge demanded. "You're the one who started suspecting this guy in the first place. So now he's suddenly not guilty?"

Looker's instinctual reaction was to return the anger, even if he knew it wasn't directed at him. He took a moment to remind himself of that. Reacting with anger would only make Surge worse. "That is not what I said. Some people are simply good at destroying their evidence."

"Then how will this help?"

"Well, hopefully he is not aware of being suspected yet." If he was, then they had more problems than just a murder. "So it will be possible to see the evidence before he tries to be rid of it, which will be helpful if we must depend on a confession for conviction."

Surge didn't answer immediately. He studied Looker seriously for a moment, before asking: "And you're sure this is necessary?"

He nodded. "I would not be suggesting it if I was not."

"It's definitely not illegal?"

"I have checked many times. It is not."

There was another silence. Eventually, Surge folded. "Okay, fine. Time to show off this spyware of yours."

Even though the agreement was grudging, Looker breathed a sigh of relief. This would be a lot easier with Surge's cooperation.


	4. Part Four

**Part Four**

It took Looker ten minutes to locate the _Jamison _at the harbour. He almost wished that he had Mihara with him, but he doubted that she would have approved of this, and even if she had, her superior certainly wouldn't. Even though the methods of investigation weren't up to her, she would probably be in trouble anyway, and Looker didn't want that. Besides, if she could become a good detective without learning to resort to cheap tricks like this, then all the better for her.

Locating the ship was by far the most complex part of the procedure. After that, it was merely a matter of retreating to the alley where he'd left Surge ("It certainly feels like I'm helping to do something legal," he'd sniped, but he was just too memorable to be walking about in the open) and releasing Dolos. The kecleon tilted his head, sniffing the air hopefully.

Smiling, Looker said, in Greek, _"Sorry, Dolos, no food right now. I'm in the middle of a case and I need help. You okay with that?"_

Dolos stilled immediately and watched.

Looker breathed a sigh of relief. He'd been worried Dolos would be too tired at first; he had been out a lot in Hoenn, simply because it was home for him, and he'd had as little chance to relax as Looker had. _"Good. I'll treat you to something after this, I promise."_

Dolos flicked his tongue out almost too quickly to follow. It came a few inches from his nose.

_"Alright, alright." _Looker rolled his eyes. His kecleon could be more impatient than him sometimes. _"There is a ship five down from here." _He gestured, and then paused. _"You remember five, right?"_

This time the tongue flicked him straight in the middle of his forehead.

Looker sighed and calmly wiped it with the back of his hand. He was too used to this to be disgusted anymore, and too tired to worry that this was a bad sign. He carefully did _not _look at Surge, who was failing to stifle laughter. _"I'll take that as a yes._"

Dolos curled his tail a little tighter and silently snickered.

_"Same deal as always, alright? And stay away from the busy areas of the ship, someone's bound to spot you and you probably wouldn't be able to find anything useful there anyway. Wait for Lethe to give you the go ahead."_

Dolos nodded and settled down to watch, one eye swivelling to the entrance of the alley with some interest. Looker left him to it and released Lethe.

"Hey, a musharna," Surge said, raising his eyebrows. "Been a while since I've seen one of these."

Looker was momentarily confused, until it clicked that Surge was _American, _of course he would know musharna. He'd almost gotten used to releasing Lethe to looks of bewilderment.

Surge slowly stretched out a hand towards her, but Lethe squeaked and floated away from him. She let out a puff of dream mist and disappeared.

Looker covered his eyes with his hand. _"Lethe."_

:: _? _::

_"You don't need to be scared of him. He's a friend."_

:: _...! :O _::

_"That's not helpful, Lethe."_

:: _:( _::

_"You can trust him, I promise."_

:: _...? :) _::

She appeared again and Looker breathed a sigh of relief. "Sorry. She can be a little timid on occasion."

Surge just looked a little confused.

:: :_( _::

_"Don't be so childish! It's true - why else did you hide yourself?"_

:: _... :S _::

_"Anyway, I need your help for this case."_

:: _! ... :D_::

_"I don't always need your help..."_

:: _:) _::

_"Lethe, if you're going to waste time-"_

:: _! ... :( ... ? _::

_"That's better." _By his feet, he could see Dolos twitching with impatience, so he filled in Lethe as quickly as he could. _"You alright with that?"_

:: _:D _::

_"Whenever you're ready then. Just let me know when Dolos gets there."_

:: _:)_::

Dolos was invisible and gone within seconds.

"Huh," Surge said. "Well, that was weird. And no one notices that red stripe when you do things like this?"

"Very occasionally," Looker admitted, "But Dolos is fast, so they do not get a chance to look again." When Surge still looked sceptical, he added: "Is it often that you are looking for such a thing?"

"...No."

"Then it is safer than you are thinking."

Surge still looked as though he didn't quite believe this. He didn't seem to have anything else to say about it, though, because after a moment he said: "What was up with that disappearing trick, anyway?"

Looker frowned. "You mean Lethe? It was only use of dream mist. You did not know this?" he added, genuinely puzzled. He said that it had been a while since he'd last seen one, but he couldn't have forgotten, surely?

"Hey, it was too dry for these guys where I was from," Surge said, a little defensively. "I've only seen one a few times - I didn't know they could do things like _that _with this dream mist stuff."

Looker was even more confused for a moment, but then - oh. Well, of course America was made up of more than Unova. It wasn't too surprising that Surge was from somewhere else in the country.

"I see," he said. "Well... a lot of musharna probably could not do that so convincingly. Lethe has been trained specially."

"By you?" He sounded impressed.

"Ah, no-" Looker said hastily. "At least, not only me. I am not very good at this sort of thing - I had help from a friend who is very experienced at this."

Surge frowned. "I thought you had to be a trainer before you could join the police?"

"What? Oh." He shrugged. "I said that I am not very good at training, not that I never was one. It was not for me - that's why I became an officer in the first place."

:: **_! _**::

Surge opened his mouth to say something else, but Looker waved him off. _"He's there already?" _he asked Lethe. _"That was fast." _

:: _! ... :/ _::

_"He _shouldn't _push himself, but there's not much I can do about it now."_

:: _:( _::

_"I'll talk to Dolos later, okay? Just show us what he's seeing for now." _

:: _:D _::

Lethe released several puffs of dream mist which seemed to clump together into two distinct circles. At the same time, it darkened, and took on shape, became a view of a carpeted hallway from two different perspectives, a few centimetres apart.

Surge watched with interest - until Dolos suddenly flicked one of his eyes towards the ceiling, whilst keeping the other level, when he did a double-take. "Okay, now that's _weird_."

:: _:( _::

Looker shot Lethe a glare.

::_ :( _::

He would have told her why getting angry at a Gym Leader was a bad idea - Lethe could get some weird ideas sometimes - but focussing on what Dolos was seeing was more important. With how quickly he moved and his... odd... way of viewing the world, it was quite easy to miss something that could be crucial. Looker couldn't afford to do that. Instead, he made a mental note to discuss it with her later.

Although it turned out that he probably could have taken the time _now, _because Dolos didn't see anything of interest for a good half an hour - and even though part of that had been spent hiding under random pieces of furniture or cargo to keep from being spotted, it was still a little disappointing, albeit unsurprising. Dolos, like Looker, was not used to searching for a needle in a haystack.

Then Dolos found a hand-written sign which said "Off Limits", pasted to a door that looked regularly used, even though the sign itself was torn and stained with age. It was even closely poorly enough for Dolos to force it open and look inside.

It was a small space, with the only light coming from the open door, and if Looker had been there he probably wouldn't have been able to see very much. Dolos' vision was only slightly better, but it was enough.

It didn't look very exciting. In fact, it was much like any other room on the ship: rectangle with uniform walls and ceiling, some sort of water stain in the corner - maybe mould, it was difficult to tell. The only unusual part of the room was the huge chest pushed up against the far wall. Dolos moved toward it. It was old, but not well-cared for. It had been chipped and splinters stuck out from all angles; there were even huge chunks of it missing in places, so that it was difficult to see more than snatches of the intricate pattern on the lid and sides. Vines, Looker thought, before Dolos gently pushed open the lid and peered inside.

The light was too poor to see in any detail, but Looker could vaguely make out... rolls of something - some kind of fabric? Plain, not patterned. Doyle&Co. didn't ship fabrics of any kind, so Looker was confused as to why they were on the-

No, that wasn't the right question. Looker had made a career out of asking the _right _questions. The right question wasn't 'why would Veronica Matthews poison her brother' but 'why would Veronica Matthews poison her brother _there?'_ - that was how he'd gotten even this far. So it wasn't 'why were there fabrics on the ship' but 'why were the fabrics in _this _room?'

Just because he didn't know why the answer was important yet didn't mean it wasn't the right question.

Dolos must have picked up something from the fabrics that Lethe couldn't show - a scent maybe - because he stayed by the chest for several seconds before shutting it.

And that's when Looker saw the handprint.

For one heart-stopping second he thought that it was blood.

_He stepped into the room and froze. The white carpet was soaked in blood; the room full of the sickly crisp copper scent. There was a small handprint in red wrapped around the leg of the side table, and drag marks on the floor. There was no body of any size._

In the dim light it looked a dull red, and he was convinced for an instant that he'd failed another child, a stranger this time. Panic swamped him suddenly, but fear had constricted this throat so tight that he felt like he could barely breathe, let alone move or do something stupid. Like last time.

_How could Ioanna have done this? He'd _trusted _her, he'd thought that she was... that she was... how could she have done this?_

_Bile started to rise in his throat as someone pulled him away; he could distantly hear Sanna shouting 'For God's sake, get the man out of here!', and forced himself not to throw up - he wasn't a rookie anymore, and he wasn't going to lose it in front of his superior._

_Besides, it wasn't Stacia. If it was Stacia he would have to tell Nico, his friend, his _brother,_ that she was... that her godfather had let her die- It couldn't be Stacia. Someone - anyone - else, but not Stacia. _

_Please dear God, not Stacia. _

He was telling himself that there was no way he could have known about this before he realised, with a sense of relief so sharp he swore felt his knees weaken for a moment, that the colour was wrong. In this light, with Dolos' eyes, it should look darker - crimson, almost purple.

Surge seemed to realise something was wrong. "Are you alright?"

_It wasn't Stacia. _

"Fine," Looker said, more curtly than he'd meant to. He clenched and unclenched his fist a few times. It helped a little, but he couldn't help but wish that Kinney had assigned _anyone else _to this case. Murder cases always reminded him of Stacia and Ioanna, and this one seemed to delight in finding new ways to bring up the past. But it was only for a moment, because he knew that not everyone was stubborn (reckless?) enough to do what he did and the last thing he wanted was _any _murderer going free.

Lethe must have gleaned something from his head, because Dolos remained in the room.

What was he doing? He had another case to think about; now was no time to be preoccupied by a murder that had happened seven years ago. Looker knew that Surge was probably still looking concerned - though _God _knew why - and Lethe, though she hadn't said anything, would want to be giving _him _a lecture later. But he couldn't worry about that. There was a murderer still on the loose and it was Looker's job to put him behind bars. Anything else would have to be set aside until that was done.

He was not going to let what happened seven years ago repeat itself. Not if he could help it.

_"Lethe, ask Dolos to look again please."_

She didn't respond, but curled into a slightly tighter ball. That was unlike her... maybe she was more upset than Looker had thought, if she didn't dare to share her thoughts with him - that was usually a sign she was afraid of worrying him about something. He bit the inside of his cheek. He wished he could speak to her now, but - the _case. _It felt like he was getting close to a breakthrough, especially now, with a discovery like this. Lethe would tell him if it was something serious... wouldn't she? It could wait. It would have to wait.

Whatever was bothering her, she must have told Dolos to look again, because now he had once again lifted the lid. This time he focussed on the handprint, which was curved around the edge, as though the child had pushed it open, much like Dolos. Looker had to hold back a grimace as he stared at the handprint. It was small, probably belonging to a five or six year old, and... and _damnit, _it was like someone had set this up _deliberately, _why did everything have to remind him of...

"So, what d'you make of it?" Surge asked, breaking the silence in the alley.

Looker was profoundly grateful for the distraction, even though Surge probably didn't realise he was providing one. "I am not sure. But I can think of no innocent reason for it to be there."

"He's targeting kids now?" Surge demanded, with a voice like flint.

"It has probably been there for a while," Looker said - then added hastily, when this only made Surge look more furious, "But it does not mean anything - necessarily."

"Doesn't mean anything? You said yourself that there's no innocent reason for it to be there!"

"I can do nothing!" Looker snarled. He was overreacting, he _knew _he was overreacting, but that had come just too close to accusing him of letting another child die. "What is it - do you want me to arrest him? Now? He would be free again within an hour and if he tried he could disappear easily before I had another chance - is that what you want?"

"No! I never _said-_" Surge cut himself off abruptly and let out a deep breath. "I never said I wanted you to arrest him," he repeated, calmer. "Just..." He shrugged helplessly. "Don't you get angry when kids get mixed up in this sort of thing?"

Looker made himself relax. This was the sort of thing that would make anyone angry, let alone Surge. He wasn't blaming Looker for anything. The similarities were just getting to him, that was all; everything seemed to be trying to link itself to Stacia.

"Of course I do," he answered softly, although angry probably wasn't the word for it. It was hard for him to get angry about it when all he could think of was what that child would miss out on because he'd been too slow, too gullible, too sympathetic, too- well, he couldn't say that was the case this time, at least.

_"I'm sorry."_

_"I trusted you."_

_"I didn't mean to... I'm sorry..."_

_"Kokinos-"_

_"I _trusted _you and you... how stupid was I! You're no better than he was, you bitch, you-"_

But it was hard to shake the reminder.

Dolos was still hovering around the chest. Looker wasn't sure there was anything else of interest in the room; if there was, it was probably in the chest and he couldn't get a look without disturbing the contents, which - apart from potentially destroying evidence - was a little too close to illegal for Looker's comfort. Still, to be certain, he decided it was best to ask Dolos to do another sweep of the room, and then move on. He wasn't sure how much more of the ship he had to look over, but it was best to be thorough, although the chances of finding something more incriminating were slim...

"You're not fine."

Looker started. "What?"

"You're not fine," Surge repeated.

He was watching Looker with an unreadable expression, and nothing about him suggested anger - but all the same Looker's immediate response was to tense. He put on a puzzled expression. "What is it that causes you to say so?"

:: _:__( _::

He ignored Lethe.

"Are you kidding me?" Surge said. "Listen, you can't buy me off with that shit. I was in the army. You think you're the first person who's tried to make me believe they're fine? You're not. You're not even all that good at it."

"You are being mistaken," Looker insisted.

"Then why did you look like someone had socked you in the gut when you saw that handprint?"

Looker froze. Had he really been so transparent? No, Surge couldn't have seen through him so easily-

"Freezing is the wrong response," Surge said. "For future reference."

He winced. That was probably one of the oldest tricks in the book, and he'd _still _fallen for it. "It is nothing in particular," he said carefully. "It only... reminds me of an old case." It wasn't a lie, anyway.

"If it's getting to you that much, you need to take a break," Surge said.

Looker decided to take this as a suggestion, rather than the order it had been phrased as. "That is not necessary," he answered coolly. "It was only a moment. It has passed."

"Sure didn't seem that way to me."

"As I have said, you are being mistaken."

Surge responded with a look that was somewhere between disbelieving and insulted, to the point that he didn't seem able to form _words _for several moments. "Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"In the moment, I do!" Looker snapped, rounding on him.

"You're having _goddamn flashbacks!_" he retorted, for the moment every inch the soldier he used to be.

Looker recoiled and felt his chest tighten with anxiety. He was not used to being seen through so easily. "I am not. You are-"

"Think about who you're talking to. For just one second. That excuse _doesn't work _on_ me,_" Surge growled.

"It is no-"

"And what's more, it's not even a _good _excuse," he continued, as though Looker hadn't spoken. "Just take a fucking _break_, Looker!" Abruptly he took a deep breath, and carefully folded his arms, speaking far more calmly than any man who looked that fierce had a right to. "Kent was a good man, but he's not worth forcing yourself through... whatever the hell is messing with your head right now. Just... take a break."

"There is nothing wrong," Looker said, although he knew he had no hope of convincing him at this point. "I am not taking any break. Not now."

"For fuck's sake!" Surge snapped, arms briefly unfolding with clenched fists - but then he closed his eyes and forcibly, obviously, checked his anger. "Why," he said after a moment, enunciating every word with almost frightening delicacy, "Are you so determined to work yourself to death over this?"

"_This _is a _murder,_" Looker bit out. He was not nearly as calm as he wanted to be, but it was all he could do not to hit Surge at this point. "I can not take any break."

What was so difficult to understand about that? What else could Looker possibly say that would make Surge understand that he couldn't just _leave _a _murder, _why was _he _the one who had to persuade people to keep working all the time when it was _their _loved one who had just died - when it was someone it _their _city who might be next?

"Why not?" Surge asked stubbornly, because somehow, _he still didn't understand. _"What is it about this case? Because if it's me, then-"

"Do not be absurd," Looker scoffed. "As if it would have a thing to do with you. I do not care what you think!"

Surge cocked his eyebrow and did not respond immediately. "...Then why?"

If a man could be that stupid... Looker glared at him with utter contempt. He was a soldier, but somehow he was still naive. Pathetic. "There is a murderer loose, and in every minute for which he is free is another minute where he may kill again. Do you understand this?"

Surge just looked at him. If he was confused by this, then Looker had been giving him far too much credit, but it didn't really matter - he just hoped he would understand; would let Looker finally get on with his job.

He was disappointed.

"The chances of that..." Surge said, shaking his head, face curled into some kind of twisted incredulity. "They must be tiny. You're doing all of this for the sake of such a slight possibility?"

_"I trusted you." _

"No," Looker said, forcing himself to sound as normal as possible, even though his throat felt constricted and there was a tremor going through his hands, safely hidden in his pockets. "It may be a bigger chance than you think."

"How d'you mean?" Surge prompted, suddenly sounding oddly soft.

Looker glanced at him warily. He was sure Surge had hated him just as much as he had hated Surge at the beginning of the day, and he wasn't really sure where the change had come from. He would have continued regardless, but it puzzled him.

"You can not know the mind of a murderer," Looker said, slow and tired. He felt suddenly drained, and didn't know if he'd be able to continue investigating for much longer, even if he won the argument. "It is not possible - you may think, oh, this person, I can understand them - murderers, they seem a lot like a normal person when you speak to them, sometimes... even like a good person." He swallowed and continued. "But they made a choice to kill - murderers, they are a very small percentage of people. It is said that we all have that capacity, but I do not think so. There must be something different about them, something fundamental, that is different to us. We can not ever understand."

Surge stared at him for a long moment, expression somewhere between dismay and pity. Of course he didn't agree. Of course he didn't get it. Why would Looker be so lucky?

"What happened?" he asked eventually.

Looker let out an irritated sigh to keep from flinching. Not only did Surge not understand, but he apparently could see straight through him, too. He wondered if this was what his suspects felt like when he was the one asking questions, except that he was sure he was never this accurate about anyone.

After all, he'd proven a terrible judge of character in the past.

"I made a mistake," Looker answered, careful to keep his voice steady. He was quite proud of how well he succeeded. "I made a mistake and it was not myself who suffered for it."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Amateur therapists were even worse than the real ones. "No. But I have a suspicion that I have no choice in the matter."

Surge just shrugged. It was starting to get to him, that under a time like _this _he could remain so nonchalant, when Looker... couldn't. "It might help, but you don't have to. It's your choice."

_His _choice? Now that, Looker did not believe.

* * *

At least, Looker thought irritably, Surge had been gracious enough to let him finish working with Dolos before he forced him to take a break - he'd threatened to have his electrabuzz knock him out if he didn't, and something about the way he said it made Looker believe he would have, too. Getting Surge out of his hair with an assault charge was tempting, but he would probably only lose more time that way.

As it was, Looker estimated he was wasting an hour. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, considering that Looker was already quite tired by the time Surge got around to making things worse, but any amount of delay sent his mind spiralling into terrifying 'what-ifs' that he tried not to let his imagination run away with. He had mixed success.

Surge had offered - in what even Looker would admit was a charitable move - to let him use a spare room at the Gym, since in his rush to get started on the case he had neglected to make arrangements for a place beforehand. He could have found somewhere without too much trouble - Vermillion City was not a tourist city for nothing - but this was more convenient, even if Looker couldn't shake the feeling that he was being trapped.

Looker was confident that a Gym Leader, or at least not this one, wouldn't do something like that, but he couldn't convince himself to fully trust Surge either. He was left with a feeling of mild unease and tried not to let it become full-blown paranoia.

"You're putting it off," Surge pointed out.

Looker barely twitched at his candour this time. Forget what he had said about amateurs being more irritating than professionals - this had to be the result of more than a passing interest. Or Looker was losing his touch. But he much preferred the former as an explanation.

...Surge was right, too. He _was _putting it off.

He let out a deep sigh and buried his face in his hands, scrubbing forcefully to wake himself up. Although he could've kept working for longer, he couldn't say that he wasn't looking forward to a night's rest, either. As far as he was concerned, the day had been relatively peaceful - but remembering what had happened to Stacia always seemed to drain him, and he had had almost more reminders of that today than he could bear.

Looker laughed suddenly, bitterly, and Surge winced. "You know, it is not so grand as you probably think. I suspect that you will be disappointed."

Surge just shrugged again. Looker knew _why _he was trying to keep his responses neutral, vaguely, at the back of his head, but it still made him clench his teeth. "Go ahead."

"Very well then." If Surge was so desperate to hear it, then it would be cowardly to hide. "Seven years ago, I lived still in my home town, in Greece, and I was a detective there... either I think I had just made full detective or it was the last few months where I was a junior, I do not quite remember. Facts like that, they do not seem so important anymore, I forget these things."

He was rambling. Looker frowned at his hands on the table and told himself to try to keep on subject this time - if he was going to tell this story he might as well do it properly. Surge said nothing.

"It was a case..." He stopped. That wasn't right. This had never really been just a _case _for him, even at the beginning. "An incident. When we were first called out, it looked like it was just an accident. A man had fallen down the stairs. His widow was the only one in the house at the time, and by all accounts, she would never hurt a fly. We could not say for sure, but we certainly _thought _it was an accident."

Of course, after making that assumption, the idea had been challenged quickly. The more Looker had heard about the dead man, the more he sounded like someone who would have been murdered. He was physically and emotionally abusive, and all the neighbours knew it. Nico lived a few streets away, and even _he _was sure there was some truth to those rumours. But Argyris was terrifying to more than just his wife, and Nico had two young daughters to think about. He'd spoken to the wife, urged her to leave, but she never had. The neighbours had said much the same thing. No one had reported it to the police.

"I started to wonder," Looker said, "After I found out more. He was abusive; he had tricked Ioanna into marrying him in the first place..."

Damn it, he hadn't meant to say her name. That was part of what had gotten him into trouble to begin with. Sharing names; becoming friends. Ioanna- _Mrs. Argyris _had been a pleasant person, he'd thought, and he'd liked her, felt sorry for her and the terrible marriage she'd been trapped in.

But that was the problem.

_She smiled at him. "Please, call me Ioanna, Officer Kokinos."_

_"Well, I..." He hesitated. He probably shouldn't, not when the case was still being investigated, but - she came alive when she smiled. "Alright then. But you'll have to call me Andreas."_

_"I think I can cope with that." There was a brief moment of silence. Softly, she said, "Even though we're meeting under terrible circumstances... you seem like a kind man. I hope we can be friends in the future, Andreas."_

_She did have a nice smile. When she offered him her hand, he had to fight off the impulse to kiss it instead of shake - that would be beyond inappropriate, and horribly unfeeling of him. It was terrible to see her shrink in on herself again as he turned to leave. She became so small, so quiet, so... invisible, almost beneath notice._

_He stopped in the doorway and looked back, and was gratified to see her raise her head._

_"I'm sure we'll have all of this cleared up soon," he said, giving her a smile of his own. She returned it, and he struggled not to look away from the intense warmth of her expression. "And then you can get on with your life."_

_"I'll be glad when that happens," she said. She was sitting straighter in her chair, like a real person should sit, and not a doll, or a puppet. "Thank you."_

_He lingered in the doorway, enjoying her grateful smile, but he couldn't think of any more reasons to stay and he had been here too long already, so he gave her one last nod, and left._

"Looker?"

He started and sat up straight, clasping his hands together. He had completely forgotten that Surge was there. "I... sorry. What was I saying?"

"The guy was abusive."

"Oh... yes." Had he only gotten that far? "Well, when you find out these things, that is the point where you start to wonder... I began to think that perhaps Ioanna- _his wife,_" he corrected, wincing. "I began to wonder if his wife might have been responsible."

"Ioanna," Surge said.

The name sounded stilted and awkward coming from him. For once, Looker was not bothered. It _sounded _foreign, the way Surge said it, and not at all how Looker was used to hearing it.

"Please do not call her that," he said quietly. "Mrs. Argyris, if you must call her anything."

There was a moment of silence, and then, to Looker's relief, he nodded. "Alright."

"But, yes, I suspected she may have been involved. The details, they do not particularly matter right now, except..."

Except for one.

"I wanted her to get away with it," he admitted. "I wanted her to get away with it because she was young, she was pretty, she had not had a good life and... I liked her."

_"Andreas, you must come visit me again sometime." She smiled shyly at the floor. "I haven't enjoyed myself this much in... in a long time."_

_"I-uh-I-" He found himself tongue-tied. "I'd... love to," he eventually stammered out. "I-It would be... I mean, I... I-I enjoy your company."_

"I liked her a good deal," he said softly.

Looker hadn't told anyone this before, except Nico and that... that had not ended well. His friend had apologised later - or tried to, because Looker wouldn't accept it. By all rights Looker shouldn't be able to consider him a friend at all anymore; why should he get an apology for anger he had deserved?

"So you didn't tell anyone?" Surge said.

Looker nodded, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from wincing at the memory. How _stupid _he'd been back then. It seemed like more than seven years. "I had told myself that I would not be interfering with the investigation, but I... did not hurry it along either."

"That's understandable. She sounds more like a victim than the dead guy." Surge leaned back in his chair, watching him contemplatively. "But somehow I don't think she ended up getting away with it."

Looker couldn't disguise a wince this time. He wondered if Surge did this sort of thing often. He was certainly starting to think that, in some ways at least, Surge was sharper than he looked - and a lot sharper than Looker had given him credit for.

"No, she did not," was all he let himself say. It was the truth, after all. Ioanna Argyris had certainly not walked free.

"What happened?" Surge prompted, when Looker took several seconds to continue.

He was starting to wish he had something to keep his hands occupied. Looker couldn't resist tapping his fingers against the tabletop, twisting them, clenching his fists; he felt suddenly restless, and had to resist the urge to simply get up and leave. What was he doing here? He should've taken Surge at his word and refused to talk about it. He had no right to know.

Except that stopping now would be proving Surge right. He would only prove that the case _was _getting to him and he _did _need to stop. Alright, the case was bothering him, but... the past was the past, and he wasn't doing this for himself or for Surge, he was doing it for the potential victims, if not of this murderer, then of the next one, or the one after that. After all, the links between this case and Stacia's had been tenuous at best; Looker's mind had made the connection, not anyone or anything here. And that wasn't a good thing, by any means, but if he couldn't cope with it this time, what would happen next time? Just because Looker rarely investigated murders didn't mean he could hope to avoid it again.

He hadn't recounted this to anyone for seven years. It was hard. That was understandable. But he had to confront those memories anyway, if he wanted to be able to work at his best later. Maybe that was what Surge had meant when he said it might help to talk about it. Maybe... he had been right after all.

Maybe Looker was still as poor a judge of character as he had ever been.

But he had let the silence stretch on for too long. "You don't have to-"

"No," he said sharply. He couldn't let Surge give him an out now, or his resolve would crumble. "It would be... better for myself if I were to finish." He paused. "If that is alright."

Surge cracked a small smile. "That's fine."

Looker nodded, and let another moment of quiet pass whilst he gathered his wits.

"As you can picture," he began, slowly, "The others on the case, they were not stupid - after a time, they also reached the same conclusions which I had. Evidence was uncovered which said that perhaps it had been murder. So suspicion fell on Ioa... on Mrs. Argyris.

"It was not all immediate - I was not the only one who had sympathy. I do not believe that any of them wanted to arrest her. But she had herself said earlier that she was in the house at the time, and so we had no choice to keep going back to her with these questions, and the answers, they brought up more questions, and then..."

Looker trailed off, almost unwillingly. His mouth felt suddenly dry, and anxiety had tightened his chest to the point where breathing felt somehow alien - not laboured but... strange. How did he say this? How did he say it and not sound... he didn't even really know what he was afraid of. Afraid of sounding callous? If Surge was any variety of intelligent he would know better than to take that at face value.

Waiting wouldn't clear the issue up any. He forced himself to start talking again. "Mrs. Argyris, she was not stupid either. When the police keep returning with questions, and the questions, slowly they become more pointed, slowly it is more difficult to answer them... what are you supposed to believe?

"She realised that she was now a suspect. And so she... panicked."

Panicked. It seemed like such a small word. There were some actions that panic made excusable. Looker had been pushed to the brink of panic himself many times - probably Surge had too. He knew how hard it was to think logically, to keep your thoughts in reality, to stop yourself from spiralling into paranoid tangents with no basis in facts; to do anything other than attempt to take the shortest route away from danger. Looker knew how hard that was and he was trained to cope with panic.

All the same, he could never forgive Ioanna. And not himself either.

"She had two pokemon in the house," Looker said. "One of them was - rather like her. A psychic type, not one with which you are familiar, it is a native of Greece. The other had been her husband's... a relation of houndoor, I am sure you can imagine what _it _was like. I do not know why she decided to keep it, or why it decided to remain loyal to her..."

He was rambling. He was putting it off. _Stop it. _

"The next time the police came to the house she left out the back door and tried to make an escape."

In his effort to get the words out, they came out in a rush. Looker closed his eyes briefly in irritation. This was seven years ago. It should not be so hard. Not this part, at least. Remembering Stacia would always be painful.

"Let me guess," Surge said. "You were one of the officers?"

Looker opened his eyes again and sighed. "Yes."

"You went after her?"

"Of course," he said, a little offended.

"And caught up?"

Looker stilled. Surge must have realised he'd asked the wrong question, because he let a few more moments of silence drag on. Maybe it was really the right question. Looker was reluctant enough to remember as it was. The prompting... helped, a little.

"No," he said, eventually. "At least, we did not catch up quickly enough."

Of course he'd thought Ioanna was harmless then. He'd replayed that part several times over, wondering if he could have stopped Stacia's death if he'd just been that bit faster, if he'd just _realised _that she'd already killed _once-_

He stopped that train of thought abruptly. Now was not the time to be thinking about 'what ifs'.

"It resulted in her taking a hostage."

Surge winced, which was the first major reaction Looker had seen out of him. It still seemed underwhelming somehow.

Looker was expecting him to say something, but he didn't, and there was left an awkward silence that he wasn't sure how to break. The only ways he could think to say this... they didn't say enough. But could anything really say enough? Probably not. Even in his native language, Looker didn't think the right words existed. And it would be rude to leave Surge hanging.

"The hostage was my goddaughter," he said, quietly.

Surge didn't answer immediately. For a moment, he just stared - and then his face softened.

Looker moved his eyes down to the table again. He didn't mind pity when he deserved it. He did not deserve it this time - not when Stacia was the one who had been trapped in that house with a strange woman, half mad with hysteria, when _Stacia _was the one who must have been terrified with nothing to comfort her.

No. Looker wasn't the one who deserved sympathy.

"That explains a lot," Surge said. "What happened?"

Looker shut his eyes.

_Someone screamed, high pitched and terrified. He felt as though the earth had suddenly dropped out from beneath his feet, and he started forward despite his colleagues trying to drag him back, sending a silent, mental apology to the swearing Detective Sanna - but he couldn't wait, because _Stacia _was in there and-_

_Argyris' kerbero howled and his blood froze, but he kept moving, because he couldn't afford to stop. _

"She died," he whispered. Looker hadn't intended to whisper, just as he hadn't intended to bury his face in his hands and suddenly feel like he was confessing to Nico, all over again.

He'd had to tell his closest friend, brother in every way that mattered, that one of his daughters was dead.

That she was dead and Looker had let it happen because he'd _liked _a fucking _murderer._

Of course Ioanna Argyris said that it wasn't her fault, when she was finally coherent again. She said she had been panicking because she was trapped, and her husband's old kerbero attacked of its own accord. Maybe it had picked up her mood and a pokemon mind was not quite good enough to think of an elegant solution. She didn't know, she hadn't ordered it, it wasn't her fault!

Looker could buy, on a good day, that she hadn't ordered the kerbero to attack a five year old.

He would never, ever, believe that it wasn't her fault. And he would never believe Nico's insistence that it wasn't Looker's fault, either.

* * *

Sleep, when it came, was plagued by bad dreams, but in the morning Looker felt strangely at ease, considering everything. He did not feel _better; _thoughts of Stacia still haunted him, and in many ways they were just as loud as before. This time, though, the echoes felt more like a promise than a reminder. It was... almost refreshing, and it made it a lot easier to focus on what was important.

At least, it might have been, if Lt. Surge didn't insist on being so irritating.

"You've got to eat _something_," he insisted.

"Just coffee, please," Looker repeated carefully, as though he was speaking to someone very slow. He knew he wasn't anymore, but maybe if he pretended he was...

Surge folded his arms, unimpressed. Looker lost the ensuing staring match.

"If it will have you stop bothering me," he muttered. Surge grinned. "Do you mother everyone that you meet?"

"Oh, yeah, I do this to everybody who tries to starve themselves," Surge said, utterly deadpan. "You're nothing special."

Looker shook his head, but he was trying not to smile. He consented to toast, although he rarely ate breakfast, and even less in the sort of civilised manner his mother would have approved of.

"Didn't get a chance to ask yesterday," Surge said suddenly. Looker blinked. "About that room your kecleon found. What did it mean?"

He frowned, although it was mostly to himself. "Apart from that there has been a child and paint in the room, not a lot. But it is suspicious."

"You don't know what it means, but it's definitely suspicious?" Surge repeated sceptically.

This time, Looker did frown at him. He hadn't had much chance to think about what it might mean yet, what with being mother-hen'd by a certain Gym Leader and all.

"I meant what I have said yesterday," Looker told him. "I can not think of any innocent reason for which it would be there... but it is the first time I have seen something like that."

It was only a half-lie. Of course he had seen something like that before; but it wasn't relevant, Surge didn't need to know about it and, after yesterday, Looker didn't think he would really want to know.


	5. Part Five

**Part Five**

Vermillion City in the morning could be described as nothing but 'bright'. The sun wasn't very high in the sky when Looker and Surge hired a cab to the police station, but the day was completely cloudless, and in the centre of the city, the pale stonework reflected the light and seemed almost white. The effect diminished as they moved away from the city centre, but it was still there, and the police station was almost _blinding _under such conditions. Once again, Looker had to curse the architect who had designed it.

Before they'd left the Gym, Looker had finally received a message from Kinney about which jurisdiction the _Jamison _fell under. After everything, it turned out to be under American law, and so Captain Forde had acted completely legally after all. If he was going to bring him in, it seemed like it would have to be done the hard way.

Looker found that he wasn't that surprised, or even very disappointed. Nothing about this case had ever really been particularly easy anyway.

He was a little confused when the receptionist - a different one from yesterday - checked his ID, and blinked in surprise. "Oh, Agent Kokinos - go straight upstairs. Detective Yamato said he was waiting for you."

He frowned.

"I take it that's a bad sign?" Surge said, as they walked towards the stairs.

Looker blinked and shrugged. "Well - possibly. It may be that he simply wants an update on the case."

But Yamato had been about to ask Mihara about that yesterday, and he had seemed content - or at least resigned - to leaving the whole thing to Looker before, so he suspected that it might be more than that.

It was.

"Have you seriously wasted so much time?" Yamato demanded, as soon as they stepped into his temporary 'office'. Mihara was there too, in the background. She offered Looker an apologetic expression.

He nodded at her first with a small smile, and was relieved to see her relax, and only then did he turn to her superior. "What is it that you have problems with?"

"Veronica Matthews is no longer a suspect."

Oh. Detective Yamato was one of _those _detectives: by the book, kept strictly to regulations. The type, in short, that Looker never got along with. "Detective Mihara did not inform you of why this was? I had the impression that you were to discuss it yesterday."

"He didn't let me finish," Mihara chipped in, straightening her back and meeting Yamato's gaze defiantly when he turned to glare at her.

Surge raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"Lt. Surge, with all due respect," Yamato said, in a tone which suggested he was currently due very little, "This is a police issue. Please refrain from comment."

Surge held up his hands peaceably, but Looker didn't think that anyone, least of all Yamato, would buy that Surge meant the gesture. Yamato didn't push it. "Agent Looker, maybe _you'd _like to explain this."

"I would not have to, if you had listened to Mihara yesterday," Looker said, because he couldn't resist. Yamato grit his teeth and, disappointingly, held back whatever remark he had wanted to make. "But in any case, it is quite simple - Miss Matthews must have to be far less intelligent than she truly is to have poisoned her brother."

"I don't know what sort of 'crimes' you investigate in Interpol," Yamato said. He wasn't even bothering to disguise the disdain in his voice, something Looker thought was probably either a sign of stubbornness or stupidity. "But in the real world, people do stupid things sometimes."

"But it is not normal to plan out the stupid thing in advance," Looker pointed out. "That would be foolish."

"Depends how far in advance you planned it," Yamato countered.

"She planned the murder before she came to Japan and did not think that poisoning her brother would make her the obvious suspect in that time?" he asked.

Yamato simply shrugged. "Sometimes people are so caught up in the details they miss the obvious. It wouldn't surprise me if she did just that." He scowled. "That isn't the issue. The issue is that you gave _barely _given the _main suspect _a second glance when all the evidence points to-"

"If you wanted me to waste several days investigating a dead end, you perhaps should have informed me at the beginning," Looker snapped. This sort of people always irritated him; sometimes it was appropriate to do things exactly by the book, but some of the time a detective could afford to get away with a few creative interpretations of the normal procedure - operating strictly by the book would _probably _lead to the same conclusion, but it would take longer to get there. "As the situation currently is, it seems as though I have been proven right. Which you would know, had you listened."

"I had more important things to think about yesterday than your relative successes."

"I believe 'relative success' is an understatement," Looker said sharply. "I can tell you who did it and how."

Yamato raised a sceptical eyebrow. "And you can prove this?"

"If I could prove it, I would arrest him," Looker said, through gritted teeth. The fact that he _couldn't_ prove it remained a sore point. "If you also obtain a package of the paracetamol the same as Miss Matthews had, I can probably also prove that she at least is _unlikely _to have done it."

He seemed to consider this for a moment. "Mihara, go get us a copy of these pills."

She looked a little put-out, but said, "Yes, sir," and left with no complaints.

"I still don't like Interpol methods," Yamato continued, turning back to Looker and fixing him with a hard stare. "You're too inclined to throw proper standards out the window when they don't suit you, because it's not _your _home, so why should you care if the criminal gets off on a technicality? But I wouldn't be a Detective if I couldn't listen to other theories, so you'll get your chance to convince me, same as anyone. If you can't, then I must insist that we at _least _bring Veronica Matthews down here for questioning."

"That would be entirely your decision," Looker said coldly. "As I would not be doing it for you."

Yamato regarded him with something very much like amusement, but did not comment. Looker had to swallow an insult. He did _not _like being underestimated. He might be younger than Yamato, but he'd been an Interpol Agent for about six years now and had worked with the police force in Greece for seven before that. He was far from being a rookie, but this sort of thing always seemed to happen when he ended up working with someone older than himself.

"How have you been getting on, Lt. Surge?" Yamato asked politely.

"Not so bad," he said, although Looker thought there was something mocking to his tone. Yamato must have thought so too, because he frowned slightly. "He's better than I thought."

"Thank you," Looker said dryly.

Yamato considered him for a moment. This time Looker found himself unable to read his expression. "So, how _do _you intend to show that Miss Matthews didn't do it?"

"An experiment," Looker said. Yamato blinked, and he smiled thinly. "Nothing extravagant, I assure you. All I will need is a glass of water."

"I think we can allow that," Yamato said, attempting in vain to mask his confusion, as Surge raised a questioning eyebrow at him. Looker shrugged back.

It would have been an awkward and almost silent twenty minute wait for Mihara's return, but Looker didn't care for such lengthy silences and he knew Surge didn't either, so he took it upon himself to fill the silence with a rather drawn-out explanation of what they had worked out so far.

Surge chipped in occasionally, and gave Looker a significant look when he concluded without mentioning yesterday's investigation of the _Jamison, _but, well - what was he supposed to do? Yamato had already expressed his disapproval of Interpol taking shortcuts, as it were, and that was about as blatantly 'shortcutting' as it got - even Looker would admit that. He would probably end up having to share it, in any case, but he'd rather do that _after _he first convinced Yamato that he was on the right track.

"It would never hold up in court," Yamato said, almost as soon as Looker had finished. "It's all too circumstantial."

Looker had known this for a long time now. The reminder, _again, _was not what he wanted right now. At least Yamato hadn't dismissed the evidence out of hand. "That does not mean that what the evidence is saying is any less true."

Yamato inclined his head, and he held back a sigh of relief. Despite his earlier words, Looker had been worried that he would be less open to 'other theories', as he put it, than he said.

He didn't have to worry about keeping any conversation going, either, because a few moments later Mihara burst through the door panting. Looker blinked and wondered how much she had rushed herself. "Er, it was not that urgent."

She waved him off, and threw the packet at him. He caught and inspected it critically, but it seemed, for all intents and purposes, to be exactly the same as the one Miss Matthews had been carrying on the day of the murder.

"What do you intend to prove?" Yamato asked.

"Well, I cannot be certain yet," Looker began to explain vaguely, casting about for a glass; there must be one _somewh- _ah, there! He picked it up and turned to Mihara, frowned, and handed it to Surge instead. "Please go and fill that with water."

"Oh, sure," he said sarcastically. "Because the Gym Leader has nothing to do but run errands."

Looker could recognise when he was joking by now. "Being fair, taking turns - is that not one of your American things?"

"As long as your turn's next," Surge muttered, without venom.

Yamato interrupted with a scowl. "My question still stands."

"What? Oh." Looker had almost forgotten. "I cannot be certain yet, but this brand of the tablets - it is described as fast-acting, yes?"

"You would know better than me."

Looker almost frowned. He wasn't sure how he ought to interpret that. Did it matter? Hopefully not. "Well, that is what it claims, in the least. Cyanide, it is also a fast-acting poison, it is absorbed rather quickly, we all know this, do we not?"

Nods from Mihara and Yamato, interested and exasperated, in that order. Surge returned with the glass of water and handed it to him. "Gotta say, this isn't shaping up to be the most exciting experiment I've ever been a part of."

"You underestimate the thrilling properties of water, my friend," Looker told him. Yamato was looking impatient, so it was probably time to be serious. "But, what I am getting at, if the brand lives up to its advertising, it should dissolve very quickly."

"This means... what, exactly?" Yamato asked.

"Well, I am no scientist," he said, "But if it dissolves quickly in water, then we can say that it would be many times faster again in stomach acid, yes?" He frowned. "If we were lucky, we would have a comparison to be made with the others which the victim took, but unfortunately that is not so. We must assume that they were slower-acting."

"Why-?" Yamato started.

Looker held up a hand to stop him. "Please, you must allow me to demonstrate. Although, I could be wrong, and this will prove nothing." And wouldn't _that _be embarrassing.

He quickly picked a capsule out of the packaging, waited until the second hand of his watch was approaching 12, said, "I will be timing, so someone must inform me of when it is gone," and dropped it in the water.

Exactly 49 seconds - and possibly the longest 49 seconds of his life - passed before Surge said, "I'd call that dissolved."

Looker glanced at the 'capsule', which was actually now mostly powder, and tried to conceal a sigh of relief. "Yes, I would too."

"I don't see what this proves..." Yamato said pointedly.

He reigned in the urge to give a rude response. Not everyone put things together like he did - which was probably a good thing, because Looker reached some bizarre conclusions sometimes - and he knew what he was trying to prove, so the conclusion was easy to reach. Being abrasive would help nothing.

"It proves that the capsules would have dissolved almost immediately, and the cyanide would have been released very quickly," he said, "So, the question is then, for what reason did Matthews take so long to collapse?"

Silence fell for a moment.

"I see why you said the other painkillers must have been slower-acting," Yamato said. "But it doesn't really prove anything about which one delivered the poison; they could have been taken at any time."

"Not so!" Looker said. "We have very specific testimony from the hotel staff, and also Miss Matthews herself, about the timing of that evening." He gave Yamato a pointed look. "Perhaps you are not trusting of Miss Matthews' testimony just yet, but you must agree that the victim would be unlikely to ask for water for his painkillers if he had not planned to take them right away, yes?"

Yamato nodded slowly. He didn't seem very dismisssive, which Looker hoped was a sign that he was becoming more convinced. He certainly didn't want Yamato to waste his time on the wrong suspect, not after Looker had spent so much effort trying to find the right one.

"Then of course there would be the wait for desert to be prepared, and we know that Matthews, he collapsed part way through. So, maybe it is not definite proof, but it seems highly likely he would have collapsed before he actually did so, had the tablets which Miss Matthews possessed been the method of administration."

Silence fell again, and Looker waited tensely for Yamato to say something whilst trying not to fidget. It was true that this was his investigation, but on a case like this Interpol never had anything better than partial jurisdiction, and it was still the detective in charge who was responsible for making the actual arrest. If Looker couldn't convince him, he might well arrest the wrong person.

After what seemed like a long time, Yamato sighed, and Looker's heart instantly sank. "Perhaps the idea has some merit, but there's no way I can make an arrest on flimsy, circumstantial evidence like this."

Looker let out a frustrated growl. "Miss Matthews could not have done it! _Captain Forde is the murderer!_"

Yamato frowned at him "Agent Looker, I agree it's a possibility, a very unlikely possibility, but that's _all. _You haven't proved anything. This would get laughed out of court."

"It does not have to be admissible in court to be true!" he argued desperately. "If you do nothing, he is just going to _get away with it._"

"Agent Look-"

"There is something suspicious going on aboard that ship!" he snarled. What was Yamato doing? Was proper procedure really that much more important to him than _catching the murderer? _

"You've been _on board?_" Yamato demanded, rising out of his seat. Looker knew instantly that he should not have mentioned that yet. "That could ruin _the entire case! _I knew Interpol were sloppy but-"

"_I have not!_" Looker exclaimed, meeting his furious gaze without flinching. He tried to force himself to calm down, or this was going to escalate into a pointless argument, but he only succeeded in removing part of the frustration from his voice. "It was legal, only-"

"Oh, of course it was _legal,_" Yamato snapped, lip curling. "By how fine a margin?"

"Does it _matter?"_he asked. "If you could just get for me a warrant, I could-"

"You think I'm going to let you touch anything else in this case, you worthless sonofa-?"

"_He is going to get away with it!_"

"If he even _did it in the first place, _and you didn't just want to let the pretty woman off the hook-"

Looker was suddenly so furious that the point of the argument left his head completely. He probably would have punched Yamato had Surge not hauled him away. He still managed to spit out, _"I. Would. Not." _before Surge pushed him, none too gently, toward the opposite wall.

"Calm the fuck down," Surge said, glaring at both of them in turn. "You're supposed to be god damn professionals so why don't you take five minutes to chill out and then _act like it!_"

Looker made an effort to control his breathing, which had responded to his pounding heart, and carefully pulled his coat back onto his shoulders. He did not take his eyes off Yamato for one second, and didn't soften his glare, either.

He was so focussed on the _idiot _who wanted to let a _murderer go free _that he didn't notice that Mihara had left the room until she slammed the door to the next office shut behind her. Both Looker and Yamato started at the loud bang. Surge didn't look surprised, so he must have seen her leave.

She was carrying a small collection of papers in her arms, which she handed to Yamato with an icy expression and a very curt, "Perhaps this will convince you more than a petty argument."

The missing 'sir' said more than her words did.

"What is this?" Yamato asked, flicking past the first page.

"It's a report from forensics that's been sitting in your inbox since late last night," Mihara told him, clipping all of her words, as though she couldn't bring herself to waste any more breath on him than necessary. "But you obviously didn't read it. I think you will find that it confirms traces of cyanide on the outside of an old medicine bottle that used to belong to Captain Forde, which was found at the crime scene, and overlooked initially."

Yamato paled slightly. Looker felt like a total idiot. He had completely forgotten about that report. If he _had _remembered, it would have saved the shouting match. Not that he _wouldn't _have said those things to Yamato, but he would have preferred not to have said it. It certainly wouldn't make working with him any easier.

Mihara held her hand out for the report, and Yamato quietly handed it back. She turned to him. "Perhaps you would care to peruse it, Agent Looker?"

He winced. She was speaking to him in much the same tones as she spoke to Yamato. Whatever good grace he might have had with her, it was probably gone. "No. I trust you have understood what it says."

She tossed the report onto Looker's desk with no more theatrics, and the frosty demeanour suddenly seemed to melt away. She sighed, pulled out the chair that Surge had vacated, and collapsed into it. "This is also after they've dusted it for fingerprints, so it has the same problems as anything else we've got."

Yamato nodded. "Lawyer'd tear that apart."

Looker bit back a comment that would be retreading the argument they had just had, although he was getting sick of hearing 'it would never stand up in court' as an excuse. "Probably, but no one has to tell Forde that."

"What are you suggesting?" Yamato asked suspiciously.

"The evidence would not need to be so sound if he had confessed to the murder."

Yamato gave Looker an appraising look. "And you can get a confession out of him?"

He hesitated. The truth was, he honestly didn't know. Looker hadn't met Captain Forde, and could only make guesses based on his past cases - the problem was that he didn't have the whole picture yet, and until he did, it would be difficult to say what sort of man he was. "It would be easier if I had some idea of a possible motive."

"Of course it would be," Yamato said, rolling his eyes. Looker kept his mouth firmly shut. "But the only one with a motive is the sister, and you refuse to suspect her."

"And you seem to be refusing to use common sense," he answered bitingly, but a warning look from Surge stopped him from continuing that line of thought. Maybe they were now... friends... but Surge wasn't going to let him get away with starting another argument, even though it had been Yamato who escalated it. _Americans. _

He let out a deep breath, because letting his anger get out of control would help no one, even if Yamato was a- that was another line of thought he probably shouldn't follow. "We must at least be able to narrow down the motive. He can not have simply committed a crime for nothing."

"But we've seen all the evidence," Mihara said, frowning. "There's nothing to suggest a motive."

"If he set up the poisoning the way Agent Looker says he did, then it's something that he has to distance himself from..." Yamato mused.

"That does not say much," Looker said, mostly to himself.

This was ridiculous. He'd worked on crimes far larger and more complex than this. How could something like this elude him? It was like trying to complete a jigsaw puzzle without all of the pieces and no picture to work from. That room on the _Jamison _was a piece he kept turning this way and that, but no matter where he put it, it just didn't seem to fit.

Maybe... it wasn't relevant after all. All of Looker's experience in Interpol told him it was suspicious, but it could be something entirely separate. Or something entirely innocent. Or...

"It says something," Yamato said, startling Looker after the lengthy pause. He was biting the inside of his cheek, staring at nothing in particular, and frowning to himself.

Looker also frowned. He'd thought of something that Looker hadn't? If he _had, _then what was the big delay in sharing it?

"He didn't hit him over the head and throw him overboard," Yamato said, still sounding distant, and seemingly barely realising that he held everyone's attention. "He didn't do anything to him on the ship. Unless - whatever his motive is - suddenly arose when they reached port, that means he wasn't trying to distance the murder from himself. He was trying to distance it from the _ship._"

"Is that any different?" Surge asked.

"...Yes..." Looker said. He might have been annoyed that Yamato had come up with that first, but the pieces suddenly all started to fall into place now and the prospect of completing his puzzle had him too excited to get more than slightly irritated. He was barely aware of what he was saying, and his words came out in a rush. "If he had staged an accident at sea, that would have been easy to cover - but there may perhaps have been questions raised about safety procedures, especially if it came about that Matthews, he was the son of an important politician. The ship would come under scrutiny, and so, places would be searched..."

Including, maybe, the inexplicable room that Dolos had found. Even if he didn't know what it was for yet, _that _was how it fit.

"He had something to hide," Mihara concluded. "But what?"

The triumphant feeling faded a little. Looker didn't know what he'd had to hide. The room was crucial enough that Forde would kill to keep its meaning secret, and he _still _couldn't figure out what that was.

"You said you had seen something suspicious on board, Agent Looker," Yamato said, almost reluctantly.

But now, at least, he thought he understood Yamato's behaviour of a moment ago. By pointing out that Forde seemed to be trying to divert attention away from the _ship... _he was also acknowledging that whatever 'suspicious' thing Looker had uncovered was crucial, that his less-than-by-the-book Interpol methods had done something that Yamato's own couldn't accomplish.

Speaking up anyway... probably made him a better man than Looker would like to admit. And, frustratingly, he didn't even know if he could reward Yamato's decision.

"It is true," he said slowly. "But I do not know what significance it has."

He told them anyway, in as much detail as he could remember, although there wasn't much of that. Inevitably, Stacia came to mind, but he was proud to say that his tone didn't falter and Mihara and Yamato were apparently too distracted by what he'd said to notice any need to clench his fists and take calming breaths.

Surge watched him carefully, but Looker shook his head at him, and after a moment of frowning he decided to let it go.

"...A child's handprint?" Yamato was saying. "Are you _sure, _Looker? It couldn't have been a small adult's hand?"

"No," Looker said, a little offended that Yamato thought he would be able to confuse the two. "It was certainly a young child's."

Yamato frowned.

"There was a young boy at the illegals' camp yesterday," Mihara said suddenly, sitting up a little straighter in the chair. "We know they were new arrivals. Where was the Jamison in port last? Kenya, wasn't it?"

"Close to Somalia?" Yamato asked.

"Yes," Looker said slowly. He was beginning to see where they were going with this. "They share a border."

Mihara got up from her chair. "They had to come in by ship, so why not by the _Jamison?_"

By now even Surge knew what they were talking about. He was no longer relaxed. "So Forde has been...?"

"Smuggling illegal immigrants into the country," Looker finished.

It explained the room, although Forde certainly couldn't have done it alone - there must be confederates amongst the crew, not to mention his contacts in other countries... that was going to become one hell of a headache for Interpol.

Of course, with who Matthews' parents were - assuming Forde knew - there would have been no way he could have let him in on the secret. And as navigator, Matthews would mostly have been in one area of the ship - he wouldn't have had reason to go anywhere near that room.

But if, by chance, he for some reason _did_...

Surge broke out into a grin. "Looks like you got it, Mihara."

She flushed slightly and started to stutter out an excuse, but Yamato cut her off. "We still need to prove it yet." He turned to Looker. "If you wait half a day for us to get a warrant for the harbour master's records, I can give you specific dates, numbers, drag out someone who might be willing to be a witness..."

Looker considered it. He honestly considered it. He could almost certainly get away with it. Forde was unlikely to act _now, _especially since he was no longer in danger of being discovered, after dropping off his 'cargo'.

But he'd felt so sure that Ioanna wouldn't kill anyone again, either.

"I do not need so long," Looker told Yamato. "This is enough."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're pretty confident."

Looker shrugged, but didn't say anything. He didn't dare.

Yamato regarded him steadily for another long moment. Looker held his breath and thought at first that he was going to pull rank and force him to sit and do nothing about the murderer who was practically _right on their doorstep_- but then he sighed, and said, "Alright. Fine."

Looker couldn't quite hide his surprise, and blinked. Yamato gave him a dry smile. "Just take Mihara along and have her put the handcuffs on him, alright? I don't want him getting off on a technicality after all this."

Looker frowned. What did Yamato _think _he'd do? "Of course."

"Sir?" Mihara said. "Won't you need me for...?"

"The boys can do the legwork just as well as you can, Mihara," Yamato said dismissively.

She was quiet for a second. "Yes, sir," she said eventually, struggling to hide a large smile.

Looker thought he might have missed something in that exchange.

"I'm coming too," Surge said, in a voice like steel.

He was reminded, for the first time in a while, that Surge had first joined the case not to annoy him, but because one of his friends had died. If Looker had held any objections to him tagging along, they would have disappeared then.

As it was, he only nodded.

Looker was just relieved that his part would end here. He certainly didn't envy whichever Interpol Agent got to deal with the aftermath of this.


	6. Part Six

**Part Six**

The _Jamison _was somehow grander than it had seemed through Dolos' eyes, though as Looker had been more concerned with sniffing out suspicious activity than admiring the decor, he shouldn't be too shocked. Not that the decor was grand at all, really; it just seemed that way because everything was built on a larger-than-human size. Not surprising, given that most shipping companies used machoke and machamp to move their goods about - and they had to be able to navigate the ship _somehow _- but Looker still didn't see that sort of scale very often.

Looker barely had to show his ID for the other sailors aboard to direct the three of them to the captain's quarters on the fourth floor- deck? He wasn't well-versed in ship terminology. It might have been his imagination, but some of the greetings seemed forced. He made a mental note of their faces, just case the next Agent would find it helpful.

It was a long shot, but there was no harm in being prepared.

Captain Clark Forde opened the door a few seconds after Looker knocked. He was different than Looker had expected, despite having seen the photo: in that he had had a small beard and messy brown hair; here it was only stubble and the hair was mostly covered by his cap. Apart from looking less accumstomed to heavy lifting, Forde could have passed for any old member of the crew. Apparently, he didn't hold that much value in his title.

He seemed confused to see the three of them at first, but his expression cleared when he saw Mihara. "Oh, you're the officer that interviewed me that time."

Even _Forde's _Japanese was better than his. Looker frowned.

"Uh, yes..."

"More questions?" he asked, but no one could answer before he waved them inside. "Come in, it's fine, whatever you need help with - anything to catch Kent's killer."

Looker was thankful that Forde didn't look at Surge as he spoke. Between Surge's absolutely glacial expression and suddenly clenched fist, there was no hope Forde wouldn't have realised the danger he was in.

The Captain's quarters was larger than Looker expected, even considering that they could get away with minimal crew presence on these sorts of ships these days. It sort of surprised him, actually, given Forde's rather nondescript appearance, to see his taste in furniture: wooden, old and patterned, something not often indulged in at sea.

It made Looker think of the grand, but battered, chest Dolos had found in that room.

Forde's jacket was almost a blue version of Looker's long coat, and he pulled it off the back of a chair to slip it on. The buttons were shiny brass, and it looked almost tailored. It was designed to draw attention, and Looker was suddenly certain that humbleness was only the impression Forde _wanted _people to have.

"Actually, I was just about to go up on deck for some fresh air," he said, smiling and apparently unaware of the less-than-warm atmosphere. "Care to join me?"

"No," Looker said.

Something in his tone brought Forde up short. The smile faded, replaced by something closer to nervousness. He tugged at the edges of his coat anxiously and forced up a much weaker smile, but there was no change in his voice. "Well, I suppose here is fine, although I think you're missing out-"

"You are being arrested for the murder of Kent Matthews," Looker interrupted.

He enjoyed the way all colour instantly drained from his face, and if he hadn't already been sure Forde had done it, the look of terror on his face might have convinced Looker otherwise.

"Wh- What?" Forde asked; the distinct tremor did not go unnoticed. He tried to smile again - Looker suspected that he thought it was one of his positives, but it wouldn't help him this time - only for it to come out more as a grimace. "That's... that's preposterous. Are you crazy? I was nowhere near him when he died!"

"You do not have to be near someone for them to use the poisoned capsules you gave them," Looker said, "From a container that has both your fingerprints, and traces of the poison cyanide."

Forde lost all trace of a smile this time, and looked just plain terrified. "Wh- Wha- W-Well, I... I would have had no reason to kill him! We were good friends..."

His voice got quieter towards the end of his sentence. Looker could see why when he glanced at Surge, whose expression said it all: _You don't get to use that excuse in front of me. _

"Perhaps you were," Looker allowed. "But that did not stop you from killing him when he discovered you were smuggling illegal immigrants into the country. I also believe that there is a room on one of your lower decks, which will hold fingerprints from immigrants who were arrested only yesterday. Records, they will probably show that your ship seems to arrive at port almost when illegal immigrants do." He suppressed the twitch of a smirk. Forde looked beyond pathetic at this point, but he deserved every minute of it. "I think you begin to see the picture."

Forde somehow managed to go even paler. He took several shaky steps backwards, until he collided with a dark wood writing desk and clutched at it for support.

"H-How..." He shook his head frantically and put his hands over his ears. "No!"

"Yes," Looker said simply. He gestured. "I do not think he needs any more time, Detective Mihara."

It would have been nice to arrest him himself, since Looker didn't get the chance to do that very often anymore - which was almost a shame, because there was something very final about putting someone in handcuffs. Although that wouldn't stop Looker from extracting a confession _after _he was in handcuffs. Less dramatic, but-

Mihara stepped forward, reaching into her pocket, and something in Forde's expression changed. The hands clutching at his desk steadied. He looked no less terrified, but his face regained a little colour.

He moved and tipped the desk over, throwing its contents into the air. Mihara threw up her hands to cover her face on instinct at the same time as Looker moved forward. He grabbed one of her arms and pulled her back, just as he saw Forde go for something in his pocket.

There was a brief flash of light, and an arbok was suddenly hissing at them dangerously.

Looker was already pushing Mihara towards the door, whilst trying to keep an eye on Forde's pokemon at the same time. Stupid, stupid, stupid... he should have seen this coming; if _anyone _should have known this was coming, it should have been him, or what had Stacia's death been _for. _

"This isn't making things better for yourself, sir!" Mihara yelled, eyes locked on the huge snake.

"Get them! They can't leave!" Forde shouted, high-pitched and panicked.

The arbok leapt forward after them too fast for Looker to do more than make sure Mihara was behind him, but something blurred and yellow crashed into it, knocking it into the wall. It dented with the force of the blow. He had a chance to see the arbok trying to coil around an electrabuzz before he turned. He hadn't even known Surge was carrying his pokeballs on him, but if he was staying...

"Mihara, get out of here," he said shortly. Forde had other pokemon, didn't he? He couldn't remember what they were - damnit, _remember_- but, knowing that, he could hardly leave Surge to fight him alone, Gym Leader or not.

"Sir-" she tried to say.

"No." He was _not _letting Mihara stay here; close quarters fighting was dangerous, and it was Looker's job to _stop _anyone else getting hurt here. "Get backup. Quickly."

He didn't wait for her reply, but heard her leave at a run - Surge's electrabuzz roared from behind him and Looker turned to find it wrestling with the arbok's jaws, trying to stop it biting down on its head.

"Magnus, discharge," Surge ordered.

He was pressed up against the wall in an attempt to avoid the arbok's writhing tail. If Looker had thought the room oddly small before then it seemed tiny now, all of them trying to avoid the pokemon fighting in the centre of the room.

The electrabuzz-Magnus-lit up with sparks and the arbok screened in pain, pulling away from him. Looker smelt scorched flesh and saw burns where Magnus had been holding it. Even that allowed him only a brief respite before the arbok hissed and threw itself at him again.

They thrashed about on the floor, the arbok's tail cracking Forde's desk in half and sending splinters into the air; Magnus' sparking fist missing it and punching a hole in the floor. Now the tail whipped over their heads - Surge ducked it and dragged Looker down with him - and scored a line in the wall- Looker had Julius's pokeball clutched so tightly in his hand he could feel his knuckles turning white, but he didn't dare release him when there was such chaos in the room already-

"Get out of here!" Surge hissed, trying to push him towards the door.

Looker shook his head. "It is too dangerous-" He ducked another wild strike, mostly instinct this time. "-to leave you here alone."

Surge made a noise of frustration. "You dumb fuck! _Go!_"

"No," Looker answered, equally vehemently, but there was a roar of pain from Magnus and he saw Surge's horrified face pale: the arbok had bitten down on his chest and Looker had the sinking feeling of realising he was probably to blame for being a distraction. But he couldn't leave a friend behind to deal with this sort of danger on his own, not if he wanted to live with himself afterward-

The arbok dropped Magnus, who struggled weakly, with uncoordinated limbs.

"Return him!" Looker snapped, recognising the signs. "He has been poisoned!"

But Surge didn't have a chance to before the arbok turned on them; Looker released Julius as the arbok lunged at them, because now he didn't have any choice. His croagunk recognised the situation instantly and met it without fear, but he couldn't stop _momentum-_

Looker and Surge moved in opposite directions as the arbok slammed Julius into the wall where they had just been. Looker felt his heart constrict in fear and reminding himself that Julius was tougher than he looked didn't help to calm him.

Now Looker was standing right next to the two of them. The arbok shifted its coils and all escape routes disappeared before he could move, pressing Looker against the wall and setting crushing pressure on his ribs - he would have laughed if he could have, because he didn't think the arbok had even _noticed _him, but he was struggling to see Julius from his position,_ Julius please be alright- _the pressure on his ribcage increased and then there was absolute _agony, _so intense that it blinded him for a second, and he would have screamed if he could have; all that came out was a choked gasp.

And then suddenly the pressure was gone. Looker staggered after being so unexpectedly freed, sending another wave of intense pain through his chest that made his vision spotty for a second, and he only distantly registered that the arbok had been sent flying into the remnants of Forde's desk.

Probably 'Revenge' - Julius' favourite move. He couldn't help but grin a little, a mixture of relief and pride, even though he was trying desperately to control his breathing. Every movement seemed to hurt, but if he kept his breathing shallow, the pain was bearable.

He still wished he could help Julius more - he was the only one of Looker's pokemon trained for fighting, but he could normally poison them. Knowing he was fine _for now _didn't help much, especially when the arbok reared up and hissed at his croagunk threateningly.

Then a jolteon joined him in a blur, crackling with electricity, growling without the slightest hint of fear at the pokemon towering above it.

"Don't get cocky, Lena," Surge warned. He met Looker's eyes and jerked his head towards the door. Looker shook his head in return - even though his ribs protested at the movement - and he frowned, but gave him a curt nod after a pause.

The arbok attacked again.

Looker struggled to keep up and keep out of the way without aggravating his injury - that jolteon was _fast_, and keeping most of the arbok's attention off Julius, which Looker was grateful for, but it was having just as much trouble trying to follow Lena's movements as he was and was thrashing around sporadically as a result. Looker was being forced into one of the corners of the room, which he definitely didn't want, and he didn't even think that would keep him safe for very long.

There was the sound of a scuffle from the other side of the room and Looker's head snapped round and panic made him momentarily oblivious to the pain- had Forde released another pokemon? Now? They were _already _in stupid amounts of danger-

It wasn't another pokemon. Surge had Forde's arm behind his back in a position that was a fraction away from being broken, and his expression was cold enough that even Looker was convinced he wouldn't hesitate to push it that extra bit if he had to. He didn't want to think about what else Surge would be willing to do.

"Call it off," Surge said, in an eerily flat way that demanded he be obeyed.

Looker was reminded that all of the military trappings at Vermillion's Gym weren't just for show. He couldn't reconcile the Surge that he had poked fun at for being a mother hen with _this. _It wasn't even like his earlier anger; _that _had been human, and this was a ruthless professional.

A tense silence fell. Forde's arbok abandoned its fight and instead watched Surge and its master carefully, coils shifting and moving incessantly. It hissed in displeasure, but must have recognised Forde's delicate position, because it did nothing. Surge's jolteon kept a close eye on it, but Julius moved back toward Looker.

_"You alright?" _he asked softly, and then did his best to conceal a grimace as another spike of pain shot through his chest.

Julius tore his eyes away from the arbok long enough to give Looker a flat stare. He looked tired, and he was breathing heavier than normal, but he was still more concerned about his alleged trainer than himself.

_"I'm fine," _Looker murmured, without any hope he would believe it.

"Cro," Julius said, with a snort. He flexed his arm experimentally, and took a firmer position between Looker and the arbok.

He almost smiled.

"Call it off," Surge said again. He did something that Looker couldn't see, but made Forde hiss in pain. "I won't repeat myself a third time."

Still, Forde didn't say anything immediately. He looked torn, and helpless, and terrified, and if they had come to arrest him for anything else, Looker might have felt sorry for him.

Not for murder, though. He could never make allowances for that.

Eventually, Forde said, voice shaking, "You can stop now, Myla. It's alright."

The arbok hissed loudly.

"_Myla._"

It still shifted restlessly, but this time stayed silent. Looker barely dared to breathe.

After several long seconds, Surge relaxed his hold, but did not let go, and Forde's arm was still in an awkward position.

"Return it," Surge said, just as curtly, "And hand it over. The rest of them, too."

Forde hesitated. "They'll be okay, right?"

"Of course," Looker answered automatically. He managed to keep his reaction to a grimace and a hiss of pain.

Surge gave him an alarmed look, but Looker waved off his concern. He could at least hold it together until Mihara arrived back with the others.

"...They haven't done anything," he said eventually to Forde, although half of his attention was still on Looker. "They'll remain in my custody for now, but I give you my word that no harm will come to them."

Implicit in that sentence was: 'I can't say the same for _you._'

Julius didn't relax until Forde had handed all his pokeballs over.

* * *

Looker had to give Yamato and his team credit for their quick reactions: they were there within five minutes.

"Got the situation well in hand, I see," Yamato said dryly, scanning the destroyed room. "Attacking an Interpol Agent would technically put him under your jurisdiction, Looker, but do you mind if we handle this?"

Looker grinned faintly, which was about as much as he could manage right now. "You may have him."

"Excellent," Yamato said, with relish.

Detective Mihara was paying little attention to the movements of the other members of her team, which seemed out of character for her.

He didn't realise why until she took a few hesitant steps in his direction. "Sir? Are you alright?"

"Gunk," Julius said, from by his feet, shaking his head.

Looker frowned at him. "It is only minor," he said, which was a complete and utter lie. The adrenaline had worn off - the adrenaline that he hadn't even realised _was having an effect_ - and he had been left with a severe, _incessant, _ache in his chest, and that was only if he was careful with it. He didn't want Mihara worrying about him when she had the case to close up, though.

"Seriously, do you ever stop bullshitting?" Surge said from over his shoulder, making Looker jump and then grimace, stifling a gasp of pain. Julius snickered. "It's his ribs, I'd guess. Can't be that bad though, or he'd be on the floor by now."

"What?" Mihara asked, eyes wide. "Sir, you need to get to a hospital immediately! Should I call for paramedics?"

"I am perfectly able to walk," Looker said irritably; he didn't know how far away the hospital was, but there was no need for this sort of fussing.

Surge was not inclined to take him at his word, and studied him critically for several seconds. "I reckon he can make it," he decided, eventually. "Don't worry, I'll make sure he gets there."

She breathed a sigh of relief as Looker rolled his eyes.

"Mihara!" Yamato yelled. "Take this guy down to the station with Himura and then come straight back. He can stew down there while we get all of this processed."

"Yes, sir!" Mihara answered. She turned back to Looker. "I hope you make a swift recovery. It's been a pleasure working with both of you."

"_Mihara!_" said a tall man irritably from the doorway. She gave both of them a hasty salute and then hurried after him.

"Lena," Surge said. His jolteon perked up her ears halfway through a yawn. "Go with them, make sure they stay outta trouble. Don't know how long I'll be, but I'll see you back at the Gym later."

Lena barked cheerfully and disappeared in a blur.

"She will be okay wandering around the city by herself?" Looker asked, frowning.

"When she's that fast?" Surge countered. Looker conceded the point with a tilt of his head. "She won't get lost either. Don't worry about her."

"You would know better than me," he said.

He got a slight grin in return. "Come on. The hospital won't walk itself here."

_More's the pity, _Looker thought glumly. Just because he _could _walk it didn't mean he was particularly looking forward to it.

He'd expected Surge to be fairly talkative on the way there, but he was unusually quiet. At first, Looker left him to it - his thoughts were his own, and Looker didn't really have a right to pry. After a while, though, when Surge still hadn't said anything, he began to worry a little. "Are you... alright?"

"What?" He blinked, startled, and then relaxed. "It's nothing, I guess."

Looker raised his eyebrows. "It is acceptable when this is your excuse, but not when it was mine?"

Surge winced and laughed. "Yeah, that's kinda hypocritical of me. It's just that..." He trailed off.

Their pace had now slowed all the way to a stop, but Looker didn't prod him. He had survived this long without the hospital; a few more minutes wouldn't make much difference, and Surge needed it.

"It's weird," he said eventually, voice strangely hollow. "I've been focussed on catching the guy who killed Kent, I expected it to feel... different. But it doesn't, really. I don't even feel relieved."

Looker remembered the same feeling after Ioanna had been sentenced. It was exactly what he had been praying for, but Stacia was still dead, and no amount of prayers would change that.

"A life in prison or the death penalty cannot make up for what has been lost," he said. "It is always like that."

Surge smiled, sadly, at nothing in particular. "Then I don't envy you."

Looker said nothing.

"Kent was a good guy," he continued, after a pause. "I'll miss him. He deserved... a better way to go."

"I am certain he did," Looker said softly.

"You know what the worst thing is?" Surge asked, but he already knew that it didn't require an answer. "He would've kept it secret."

Looker blinked. "Pardon?"

"Forde didn't _need _to kill him," Surge said. His voice had dropped to a murmur. "He wouldn't have liked it, but he would have kept it a secret." There was that sad smile again. "He was that kinda friend. ...Guess you wouldn't have liked him much."

Defying the law, defying all common morality, for the sake of a friend and his little illegal business venture? Looker's first instinct was to say that he would despise such a man. But was he so different? Nico was the only friend he valued so highly, but he would have done anything for him, or for his family - at least, for what was left of it.

"Perhaps not," Looker said slowly. "But... I think that would be a sort of attitude I could respect."

Surge grinned, with a little more humour this time. "You're not as bad as I first thought."

After what happened in Sinnoh two years ago, he had believed that all the Gym Leaders in this country were selfish, lazy - didn't care anything about protecting their city, at least as long as nothing threatened their own position. The wealth, the power that came from being a Gym Leader, ticking all the correct boxes to keep that; that was all they really cared about, not making genuine improvements to their city, or trying to better the lives of the people they were responsible for.

That's what Looker had believed.

"Neither are you," he admitted.


	7. Part Seven: Epilogue

**Part Seven: Epilogue**

Given the role of painkillers in _this _case, Looker thought it pretty ironic that he ended it with them, too. Drugs had never seemed so wonderful. The hospital set his ribs, and the doctor frowned when he said he would be going to Greece as soon as he was able to travel.

Unfortunately, unlike cuts and bruises, there was no shortcut for healing fractured bones. It would be at least six weeks before Looker was able to return to work, and probably longer after that before the pain went away entirely. Kinney wasn't pleased when he heard the news, but must have realised that working Looker to death would be counterproductive, so he contented himself to a 'get well soon' and 'hope you weren't planning a vacation any time in the next three years'.

Looker would have minded, except that wanting to spend most of his time working was why he'd ended up under Kinney in the first place.

The hospital staff kept him in overnight for observation, though he was sure this had more to do with the Gym Leader looking over their shoulders than his state of health. He was just finishing his preparations to leave when Veronica Matthews came to see him.

"Agent Kokinos - oh." She stopped in the doorway, head tilted in confusion. "I was told you'd been seriously injured."

"It is not quite that serious," he assured her. What was _she _doing here? But he kept his tone polite as he added, "However, I must thank you for your concern."

"Actually, I came here to thank _you._" Miss Matthews smiled. "A Detective Mihara called and told me that they'd arrested the man who did it. Thank you for getting to the truth so quickly. My mother would also like me to extend her thanks."

Looker frowned briefly. "I was under the impression that you did not care for your brother?"

She laughed slightly. "Oh, I didn't mean it like that! No, I'm just glad I wasn't arrested, and I believe I have you to thank for that. My mother's thanks might be more heartfelt, or she might just be glad to have avoided a scandal - you can never quite tell with our family."

Honesty, he thought, was commendable in many situations. He wasn't sure about now. He could appreciate Veronica Matthews' honesty, but the things she said... "I was only doing my job. Thanks are not necessary."

She shrugged. "Well, have them anyway. Even if it's your job, there was nothing forcing you to work so hard on it, so I think you deserve them."

Looker didn't like the idea of being thanked for doing the _right thing. _But he could hardly discuss that with this woman. He inclined his head and didn't comment. "Was there anything else?"

"No, that was it." She turned to leave, pulling the door closed behind her, but then she paused and looked over her shoulder. "Agent Kokinos, I hope you don't take it the wrong way when I say I very much hope we don't meet again."

"I understand."

"Have a good life!" she said cheerily, and apparently sincerely, closing the door behind her.

There were some people Looker was sure he'd never understand.

* * *

"Agent Looker!" Mihara frowned at him critically as he entered the room. "Are you alright to be walking around like this?"

He sighed.

"He's an Interpol Agent, Mihara, I'm sure he knows best," Yamato said, with a slight edge to his voice. Mihara's frown deepened, but she bit her tongue and looked down at the papers on her desk.

Looker was almost relieved that Yamato disliked him just as much as before. Whilst he hardly upset by his new friendship with Surge, see-sawing between friends and enemies so often had given him a headache.

Apparently, Yamato had yet to move back into his own office, because the room was just as cramped and chaotic as it had been the first time Looker saw it. "What did you require me for?"

"Oh, just some paperwork needs your signature putting on it," Yamato said airily. "I heard from Lt. Surge that you weren't able to fly for a few days, thought it would be best to get it out of the way."

Looker nodded and followed him to the adjoining room. There was a small pile of paperwork - smaller than Looker expected - on the desk that had been his for... what, a day? It seemed strange to think that the case had only lasted that long. It had seemed... longer.

Well, it was done with now. Captain Forde was in custody. He didn't have to worry about it any longer. In fact, he had no cases at all to worry about for several weeks now.

...Those six weeks hadn't seemed nearly so bleak until he put it like that. Great.

Sighing, he sat down and skimmed the first document before signing at the bottom.

Yamato raised his eyebrows. "You're not going to read them?"

"I trust you not to do something which would endanger the case," he said. He skimmed and signed the next one.

There was no answer, but Looker had the uncomfortable feeling of being watched. He glanced up to see that Yamato was frowning at him. He didn't know whether he ought to find this disconcerting or not. He gave him a questioning look.

"Ah, it's nothing," Yamato said, waving a hand dismissively. Looker had heard that a lot recently, but he didn't particularly care if Yamato was using it as an excuse or not. "Though, actually, I did have something else to say to you."

Looker blinked. "Yes?"

"About Mihara." Yamato looked a little uncomfortable, and... embarrassed? "Thank you for getting her out of there. I don't know for what stupid reason _you _stayed, but... well, thanks for not extending it to one of my team."

Looker's confusion cleared instantly. He decided not to comment on the slight to himself. "It was nothing. There was no point in risking injury to her, and with only a growlithe, she would not have been of much help."

"Oh, and I have to ask this," Yamato said, almost as though he had not heard Looker's reply, "How was she to work with? I think I'll have to write a report on it, this whole thing turned into such a confusing mess..."

Looker frowned. "There were no problems. She was fully cooperative and very helpful."

"Yes, and that's what I'm putting on the report," he said scornfully. "What was she _like?_"

Ah. So Yamato was after an analysis and not an official statement. In that case, he should have been more specific. "She has a good mind," Looker said, after a moment of thought, "And she's certainly dedicated. But she does not assert herself enough. She is too timid. If she has an idea, she has to first be prompted for it, or she dismisses it without voicing it for others to expand upon." He signed another sheet, expecting Yamato to show some signs of anger. He didn't. "It is not a good way to work."

After several seconds of silence, Looker couldn't resist the temptation anymore, and glanced up again. Yamato sighed just as he did so. "I thought as much. Still, it's good to have a second opinion."

"You probably do not want my advice," Looker said. "But!" He held up a hand to silence Yamato's objection. "Do you remember when she had some rather scathing comments for the both of us?"

"Yes. Distinctly."

Looker pressed on. "That is the sort of thing a full detective must be able to do." Yamato frowned at him. Confused? Looker didn't know him well enough to tell. He hesitated a little. He wasn't sure how Yamato would react, but he owed Mihara at least this. "You should not push her," he said. "She is getting there. If she does not do it by herself, it will not be a real gain."

"I'll take that under advisement," Yamato said curtly, but at least he was considering it. Looker breathed a very quiet sigh of relief, and went back to signing.

The remainder of the time passed in silence.

* * *

It was probably a good thing that Looker had made friends with the city's Gym Leader - it made finding accommodation a simple matter. That said, he saw little of him. Surge said that he'd been neglecting his challenges and administrative duties since Kent's death, and things had been piling up. Looker didn't blame him for trying to distract himself, but he did hope that Surge didn't go too far with it.

It was probably better that way, anyway, because Looker was able to make use of the time to complete his own (electronic) paperwork for Interpol, and then he got to spend much of the rest of the time being a tourist. It surprised him how long it had actually been since he'd been able to simply _enjoy _the city he was in. That was just one of the downsides to his work, he supposed. At least he got to see these places, which was something few others could claim.

Eventually, Looker's 'recovery time' was over, and he was finally able to book himself a flight back to Greece. He couldn't exactly say that he was looking forward to it, but... his native land always held mixed feelings these days.

Surge offered to go with him to the airport, but Looker declined. His mother hen tendencies really did not need to be encouraged.

"If you're sure... guess this is goodbye, then," he said, frowning. Looker didn't really blame him. This sort of goodbye seemed a little anti-climatic. "Thanks for all your help, I guess."

"What?" Looker asked, so startled that he did a double-take. "Lt. Surge, I am the one who should be thanking _you_ for _your _help! Both myself and the investigation would be in much worse shape without you."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Well, maybe you're right. Still, there probably wouldn't have been much of an investigation if you hadn't been here."

Looker's mouth quirked into a smile. "Maybe that is also true."

"And, by the way," Surge continued, offering his hand, "My name's Matis. That's what my friends call me."

For the very briefest of moments, Looker hesitated. He didn't have very many friends who called him by his first name these days; he always preferred to be known as Looker. His real name was tied up in memories and people that he half-wished he could just forget.

But he shook his hand anyway. "Andreas."

Surge-Matis grinned at him, although the cheer slipped a little when he said, "You remember what they said as the hospital, right? Go see a doctor as soon as you're off the plane-"

Looker couldn't help it. He burst out laughing, and then tried to disguise the grimace of pain it prompted. "You are worse than my _mother._" And every other member of his immediate family, put together. "Yes, yes, I will go."

"Good," Matis said, breathing a sigh of relief. "You know how to reach me if you need something."

He really _was _worse than his mother. Looker shook his head, still chuckling. "Yes. And it is the same for you."

Matis gave him the same casual, joking salute he had given Yamato before, but this one had more of an air of friendliness than mockery. Looker simply shook his head with a smile - and then he got into the idling taxi and shut the door behind him. He resisted the urge to look back.

He wasn't very good at goodbyes.

* * *

**A/N: **Finis! I hope you enjoyed the read :) Once again, all feedback would be really appreciated. This is my first completed fanfic, so anything you can tell me (even if it was just which bits you liked the most) would be really, really helpful!


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